


there's no place for us in fairytales

by iridescentjaebum



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, because i'm not good at any other kind of comedy, jackbum is probably... a thing here, you'll be able to get a few bits of cheap comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-04-07 02:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentjaebum/pseuds/iridescentjaebum
Summary: "It just wouldn't work out, you know?" Mark says to him, sitting on a sofa with a laptop on his knees, a ridiculous cartoon paused on screen. "I'm a planner, I sit in the headquarters and plan shit, I don't need to be afraid for myself. And people like you...""And people like me get shot all the time, I get it." Jaebum bitterly laughs. This truly isn't going how he planned, at all. "Nobody wants to get stuck with a person who never knows if he's going to come back to the office alive."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's back lmao
> 
> highkey this happened because of that firefighter event where got7 were in uniforms and i realized i need to write a police au for markbum, but eventually it turned into spy au, so instead of uniforms we'll get suits, which is also ok.
> 
> this being said, i have basically no knowledge about how cia or nis work, most of my knowledge for the cia part comes from internet, and korean part is purely improvised with the help of drama 'iris' because the actual structure of korean intelligence is a state secret lol. 
> 
> if you want something to listen while reading, try [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h08m-HbigZs), it's an ost from the same 'iris' and basically fits this story perfectly too lmao

_“Move back!”_

_The next thing Jaebum feels is how he’s being grabbed by his hand and falling backwards – just in a right angle to land behind a pillar in one of the more luxurious hotel receptions in Seoul._

_A bullet which was supposed to go right through his forehead gets stuck into the said pillar and Jaebum thinks how crazy it is, the idea that someone’s been checking-in here an hour ago._

_He’d know – his team was working as staff in this hotel for the entire month to blend in; he’s the one that was responsible for guest check-ins and later evacuation, which ended just a few dozen minutes before this whole madness, trying to convince them they’re about to have a simple fire drill._

_“Following the protocol for once won’t kill you.” Jinyoung’s voice in Jaebum’s in-ear sounds a little faint, like the latter’s hearing would’ve gotten separated from his brain due to this unexpected contact with hard floor. “Find a goddamn hideout, don’t stand there like in a fashion show and stop playing a hero.”_

_Jaebum would argue that if he followed the protocol, it probably_ would _kill him, because according to that paper in this situation he’s supposed to run to the nearest exit, which now is, of course, completely cut off by a few Chinese guys ready to stab anyone who comes near them._

_He doesn’t say anything back though, standing up and leaning against the pillar, trying to count how many bullets he has left. He gives up midway – no matter how many he has right now, it will not be enough anyway, they’re ridiculously outnumbered; six against one._

_“I’m going to move around and reach them from the back, cover me.” Jaebum yells to Bambam when Yugyeom next to the front entrance puts up a physical fight with one of the attackers and creates a mayhem for Jaebum to be able to talk freely._

_Bambam, who dragged Jaebum out of the attacker’s reach a few moments ago, is now a few meters to the left from him, making a temporary camp behind the reception desk. He doesn’t seem to be very entertained by the thought of having to draw attention to himself, but after seeing that Yugyeom won’t last long alone, nods._

_Bambam shoots right at one of the attackers in front of the entrance, thus giving his hideout away; he misses, but it gives Jaebum a few moments to move to another location he’s picked before – a few flowerpots with incredibly large bushy plants. His hand automatically reaches for a gun, when he sees Bambam slowly getting cornered; his aim is flawless when he shoots right at one of the windows just to the right of the entire turmoil for a surprise factor, making the attackers look around instead of beating his colleague up._

_Usually Jaebum never closes his eyes before shooting, it would be ridiculous to do so in the given situation – but that entire day is different from the get-go. This was supposed to be just a usual deal against some Chinese mobsters, but someone in Planning department fucked up and they had to pull out their guns faster than it was expected._

_When he opens his eyes, Bambam has two of the men on the floor unconscious and is running away with his light hair a bit stained red – a few glass shards fell on his head, cutting the skin._

_“Is nobody going to help us?” Jaebum hisses into his microphone to Jinyoung, who’s now safely sitting his ass in the headquarters. Three more attackers are coming closer in search for more agents and Jaebum never fancied having to knock out three people at once._

_He’s done that before, but still, it’s not his favorite activity during missions._

_“Backup’s ETA is around fifteen minutes, another team is on its way.” Jinyoung says. “We didn’t expect so many people, the information we had clearly said there’s going to be three of them, one for each.”_

_Another gunshot, and glimpsing through the bushes Jaebum can see Yugyeom falling down with a wound in his shoulder. He’s lucky that Bambam helped him put on a bulletproof vest this morning, because he’d be pretty screwed right now._

_“Fifteen minutes? Where are they coming from, Italy?” Jaebum almost yells back, deciding not to wait anymore. He takes a huge jump over the bushes to move forward, making himself a shortcut to the front entrance and taking two attackers down in one go – they seem like they didn’t expect Jaebum to be armed for some reason, because none of them are wearing anything bulletproof._

_“Just stay alive during those fifteen minutes and we’ll take care of the rest.” Jinyoung mumbles and Jaebum can almost hear how he’s slamming the keys of his keyboard in the office. He can clearly imagine Jinyoung’s frown right now and it almost makes him laugh._

_He can do that whole staying alive for fifteen minutes thing, he hopes so, at least – two of them have already passed._

_During next four minutes, Jaebum neutralizes three more attackers, having to remember every single thing he has learned about martial arts, watching how his white shirt turns red from blood, both his and his enemies’._

_Jaebum meets Bambam in the middle of the reception hall, as the latter bumps into his back. Not a good position – they’re an open and easily reachable target for everyone with a gun and basic knowledge how to use it._

_“How many of them are left?” Jaebum breathes out, while looking around for any potential danger and hiding places._

_“Three ran upstairs while we all were having this peaceful meeting here, and I believe there's a sniper outside, waiting for us to flee.” Bambam says. “Backup?”_

_“Nine minutes now.”_

_“Well, I guess, we don’t have a lot of options.” Bambam concludes. “I go upstairs and you figure out how we’re getting out of here if things go south.”_

_If there’s one thing about Bambam that fascinates Jaebum ever since the younger agent was assigned to his team, it’s how coldblooded he always remains in critical situations – his voice doesn’t tremble even though it’s his first time on the rodeo, so to speak._

_They don’t have much time to discuss that, though, as Bambam has no reason to go upstairs anymore – the attackers return to the main hall and both of them can see how Yugyeom, just up from the floor gets shot again, this time on the opposite side of his chest, the bullets making an almost ridiculous symmetry._

_Jaebum feels like he’d be watching a movie in slow motion when he sees Bambam kicking a pistol out of one of the attackers’ hands, trying to lure him away from Jaebum. The last things he hears are Jinyoung yelling something into his in-ear, backup finally barging in through one of the emergency exits and Bambam’s surprised shout, when he realizes that there was a reason why a few of the mobsters went upstairs first and came back only later._

_The guns are not the most dangerous thing here anymore – explosive belts are. It wasn’t a usual mobster exchange, rather a whole terror attack and the terrorists simply needed time to put and turn those explosives on after being caught off guard. Not the smartest plan ever, but Jaebum, with his a little too good skills of counterattacking, allowed them to do just that._

_Jaebum doesn’t know what exactly knocks him out – a grip of a gun being smashed right at the back of his head, because he didn’t notice a man behind him; or the explosion, as Bambam accidentally sets off the explosives by one miscalculated kick trying to make another attacker drop a knife._

_Everything goes red in front of Jaebum’s eyes, then it goes black._

“We don’t usually sleep at work.”

Jaebum is brought back to the real world by Jinyoung loudly slamming a huge pile of documents next to his head to wake him up. Jaebum chokes on air, not quite awake yet, but he’s rather relieved than mad – at least he knows this particular explosion wasn’t real, it was just a dream; one of the many he’s been having lately.

“Son of a bitch.” He still mumbles for a better effect while rubbing his eyes awake and trying to fully separate the bits of his nightmare from reality.

And in that reality, Jinyoung is standing next to his desk completely unfazed by the insult; Jaebum has called him much worse names during missions and whenever things don’t go the way he planned on a daily basis. “I’d prefer agent Park, but your version has this sense of cozy friendliness to it.” He smiles sarcastically. “Anyway, grumpy boy, Profiling department needs these documents to be done by the evening, so enjoy.”

Jaebum grunts looking at the papers next to him – it could easily make a few books. “I’m not a damn secretary. Why can’t you hire someone whose job actually _is_ scanning and organizing documents? Car thefts, seriously?” He adds skimming through the first few pages.

Jinyoung finds his exasperation hilarious. “Those are the most interesting ones, you actually should be grateful. The rest of them were minor vandalism and traffic tickets.”

Jaebum loudly wonders since when the National Intelligence Service is taking care of graffiti and car thieves, when there are more police stations in the country than it probably is needed at the moment; Jinyoung makes him want to rip his hair out with a lecture about how he, out of all people, isn’t a newbie anymore, and should know that every crime potentially can lead to something bigger – their usual afternoon exchange when Jaebum is assigned to do any kind of work.

“You’re not my boss, so I don’t need to do this.” Jaebum pushes the pile of papers towards his colleague and crosses his arms on his chest, looking like a proud peacock for not letting anyone push him around.

“You’re responsible for the paperwork of the entire Profiling department, and its new team leader is… Oh,” Jinyoung also puts on an act, carefully reading the ID card dangling from his neck. “That happens to be me. So yeah, I’m your new boss. If you don’t want to sit here the entire night I suggest you getting started. We also need a few visas and some customs declarations when you’re done with this.”

Jaebum’s frown gets even deeper after visas get mentioned, because he’s sure the secretary of the embassy hates him after he called her a dumbass for losing a passport a month ago – he’s embarrassed by his outburst, but who the fuck loses a _passport_ in an _embassy_ while making a visa? – but he still manages to sound kind of nice and desperate at the same time, “But it’s Friday.”

“And?” Jinyoung doesn’t even bat an eyelash and Jaebum knows he actually has a very valid point. NIS workers don’t have weekends – they don’t have holidays and even birthdays, they work every day with an exception of those few hours to sleep. And even when they aren’t at work, they’re mostly on standby.

Jaebum finally decides that he won’t change his new boss’s mind and takes the first few pages in defeat, mumbling, “The moment I’ll get my agent ID and gun back…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jinyoung yawns. He’s been in the office for the last eleven hours with only a short nap, so he’s immune to any kind of threats. “We are all going to die in the most painful and torturous death you’ll be able to come up with, I know, Jaebum, I know. But since we still have a month or two till this glorious moment – my department, my rules.”

It was because of something ridiculous – in Jaebum’s opinion, at least – him getting suspended from any field activities for half a year and transferred to do paperwork.

He was simply ridiculously outnumbered that day, _again_ , and it might have triggered some memories Jaebum tried to his best to forget. After everything the headquarters went through after their infamous endeavor in Shilla hotel a year ago, which cost them a death of a civilian and one of the agents, they had a new policy not to shoot people dead – if possible, field agents had to unarm suspects and bring them in for interrogation unscathed.

And then Jaebum violated the new rules five times during approximately 120 seconds, still hearing Bambam’s shout in his head so clear like it would’ve happened seconds, not months ago. He tried to appeal, say that it was impossible to keep them all alive, but higher-ups decided that it wasn’t the case and that he should be happy he’s not fired or sued.

You can say that out of their entire team, only Jinyoung got out of this mess with a win of some sorts – while Yugyeom was put into IT department to “make his talent for electronics grow” and Jaebum was demoted to print papers and make coffee, Jinyoung was transferred to Profiling department, where he eventually got promoted.

And Bambam… Well, as much as Jaebum's heard after the Shilla incident, he was laid to rest in Thailand; his family was told he died in an explosion, but it wasn’t mentioned he was directly involved in any kind of operation. His parents probably still think Bambam was in law school when it happened.

Sometimes, when he thinks rationally, Jaebum _knows_ he needed to be suspended right after the explosion and his team should’ve been disbanded immediately, because none of them are good at coping; but everyone was just pitying them and left them alone only with two weeks off.

“You’re thinking too loud.” Jinyoung notes, taking a chair from the corner of Jaebum’s new office and sitting next to him. “Anyway, this whole stack of papers isn’t why I came by. I don’t give a shit about these, but there’s something important we need to talk about.”

He takes half of the papers from Jaebum and to other workers, passing by and casually glimpsing at the glass wall the office is separated from the corridor with, it would look like they’re casually chatting while doing some work – and that’s the intention.

Jaebum doesn’t look at him directly, even though they’re so close he can feel Jinyoung’s shoulder brushing against his – he’s busy trying to put his demons back to sleep, aimlessly shuffling through papers, looking at descriptions of stolen vehicles and evidence.

It’s all the usual things. They found a screwdriver in a crime scene, it had blood on it – send that to forensics to confirm whose blood is that; footprints on soil for another theft – the protocol would say send it to forensics as well, but Jaebum is bad at following protocols and he knows they still won’t find anything soon – the print is so generic, he’s sure they’d find ten people in this floor alone to match the one in the photo.

There’s a lighter left behind in the third case – someone tried to steal a car, but the plan didn’t work out, so the criminals figured it’s going to be easier to set it on fire to get rid of the evidence—

Jaebum can see fire very clear.

Orange and yellow flames surrounding Bambam and smashing out remaining windows; he feels the heat suffocating him, because he’s so, so close, almost too close for it to be safe. Jaebum can see it under his closed eyes so well that he feels the fumes making its way into his nose, and it’s hard to breathe again.

He wants to tell Jinyoung they’re on fire, that he should run and save at least himself, but he can’t open his mouth—

Jinyoung shakes his shoulder and Jaebum snaps out of it, blinking in surprise and looking around to make sure there’s really no fire and fumes. It’s just him and Jinyoung in the room, people are still passing by busy with their tasks, and his former teammate is looking at him with poorly hidden concern. “Were you listening?”

“I...“

They both know he hasn’t been listening at all. Jaebum’s mind has been all over the place since the happening and while sometimes it is rather annoying and a hindrance in a place where decisions and answers have to come quickly, more often, it makes Jinyoung feel pity. They all are trying to move on, but Jaebum is the only one who seems like he has been stuck in a horrifying loop, which rewinds itself the exact second he decides to stop thinking about what happened in that hotel.

Sure, they all know what death is – they’ve been working in NIS for years already, it’s Jaebum’s fourth and Jinyoung’s third; they’ve been trained how not to be afraid of it and how to deal with losses ever since they were accepted into training to become field agents. And yet, the case they were solving at that time was way too different from what they’ve been preparing for.

He was too young back then, Bambam – hell, he was only twenty, fresh out of training. It was his first mission and he took it rather enthusiastically, babbling something in Thai and making fun of everyone for not understanding. Jinyoung did think that maybe it’s too early for him to be sent on a mission straight away without letting him pick up smaller tasks; but Yugyeom was also the same age, and it was supposed to be a routine mission, commanded by Jaebum as their team leader. Everything was supposed to be fine.

Just that it wasn’t a routine mission and Bambam never returned from it. None of them – neither Jaebum, nor Jinyoung or Yugyeom – have ever experienced a death of a teammate; their quartet was inseparable and they haven’t worked with any other people, they were _friends_ ; it’s hard to forget it after two weeks like they were expected to, but Jinyoung doesn’t comment on it out loud. “I said I might be able to get you back to the field soon.”

Jaebum tilts his head a little incredulously. Of course, Jinyoung is now quite a man of power in this whole hierarchy; being an entire department’s team leader does put some weight to his words, because it’s a given that he’s good at reading and evaluating people if he managed to climb so high, but Jinyoung didn’t suddenly become a god – he can’t simply snap his fingers and declare that Jaebum’s ready to work again.

“I know.” Jinyoung smiles a little, hearing all that flowing out of Jaebum’s lips. “But this particular case requires the best agents out of the best ones we have, and unfortunately, you’re one of them, so I think that’s enough of a reason to put you in a new team we’re forming. I went through your updated profile, it looks pretty good, I think you’re fit enough to return, both physically and mentally.” Jaebum almost refuses to believe his ears. “Briefing room 9, tomorrow at 10 AM. Only if you want, of course.”

Jaebum doesn’t need to be asked such a dumb question twice and Jinyoung feels relieved seeing the good old grin on his friend’s face, the one that appears when Jaebum gets excited. “You can go home now. I’ll finish these myself, you need some sleep before tomorrow’s briefing.” Jinyoung says and then immediately adds, “And a shower wouldn’t make things worse.”

Jaebum laughs at this, but he barely hears actual words – the news of finally getting some real work that isn’t scanning and printing make him feel like he’s about to grow wings and fly away from happiness. One sentence of Jinyoung’s, however, rings in his ears even when later in the evening, stomach full of chicken delivery, he crashes on the sofa of his small and barely inhabited apartment.

_I went through your updated profile, it looks pretty good._

Of course it looks pretty good, Jaebum thinks, burying his tired face into a pillow for one more night of restless sleep, without even bothering to turn the TV off – he updated it himself as soon as he read rumors floating about a new case a week ago.

Sometimes convincing Yugyeom to make a copy of his system ID thus getting an access to profiles of the agents doesn’t seem like a bad decision after all, even if Yugyeom keeps shitting his pants during every inspection.

 

Jaebum doesn’t exactly hate briefings – maybe a more accurate definition would be that he thinks they’re a waste of time. Mostly because it involves sitting in an office chair for at least an hour listening to superiors and long introductions to what could be presented in ten minutes; and Jaebum has been sitting in an office exactly four months too long for him not to dread this particular part of every new mission.

That’s why he stops for a while before going into the briefing room 9 the next morning – he wants to postpone boring conversations for as long as possible. The collar of his white shirt feels a little itchy on the back of his neck, burning his skin with unfamiliarity, it’s been a while since he had to show up at work in formal clothes. There is an unwritten dress code in every department, but Jinyoung usually lets him slide even if he appears with a worn out hoodie and jeans so old, they’re about to burst into dust any second.

Jaebum has a pretty clear understanding on how briefings go and how it should go now – he’ll most probably meet Jinyoung there, perhaps a few other higher-ups from Planning department, maybe someone from Drug Control department if things are bad; a representative from Terrorism division if things are really messed up this time around. However, when he finally enters the briefing room, he’s met with a surprise.

Jaebum hates surprises.

There’s Jinyoung, sure – he greets Jaebum with a stiff, unnatural smile, like he himself would be uncomfortable for whatever reason; there’s a team leader of International operations department, so things are truly fucked. There’s also a whole bunch of foreigners Jaebum has never seen in his entire life, sitting at the table and waiting for the briefing to begin, and the lead of their Training division. Jaebum tries his best to straighten a frown on his forehead before nodding to his colleagues in a greeting and sitting down.

They all sit in complete silence for a while and Jaebum can feel the atmosphere tensing up more and more with every second as if no one would really want to be in this room; he finds it strange, but doesn’t have time to think about it as Jinyoung breathes out, rather nervously, and speaks up in fluent English, “I guess we should start, then?”

One of the foreigners, around average height, as much as Jaebum can evaluate him while sitting down, around their age and with blonde hair, nods. “Yes, I believe we can proceed.” Something in his voice makes Jaebum curious for a while, making him want to find out who all those people are. It doesn’t take long, as the guy reaches his hand out to Jaebum and introduces himself. “Agent Tuan, head of Special Activities Division, CIA. This is my team.”

 _So these folks came all the way from the States, interesting_ , Jaebum thinks to himself, absentmindedly shaking the hand. He tries not to blink or turn away his stare as Tuan looks like he’s about to drill a hole somewhere in between Jaebum’s eyes with his gaze, and Jaebum isn’t exactly sure what to make of this all.

If there’s a thing he hates more than briefings, or even criminals, it’s CIA – they’re always too full of themselves and basically are one huge pain in the ass. From those few brief times they’ve had to work together before, it felt like CIA agents shared the same sentiment about their Korean colleagues.

Jaebum doesn’t say anything for a while, and a girl – probably not any older than twenty-three, at best – snorts, purposefully mumbling her words a little too loud for them not to hear. “And here I thought they should be able to speak English.”

“Agent Im, Criminal Investigative Division.” Jaebum hopes he’s still in it, because technically, no one talked about him getting his job back yet.

While he’s trying his best to pronounce every syllable of his introduction so clearly that this entire bunch of CIA assholes could stuff it up their asses, Jaebum sees most of their faces trying not to scrunch in contempt – he figures that in international arena their division is way below whatever the fuck Tuan and his team are doing.

“Can we start the briefing before I smash their heads into this table?” Jaebum casually says to Jinyoung in Korean, with a voice so calm any foreigner would think he’s simply wondering about the weather outside or asking to borrow a pencil. Jinyoung doesn’t respond, but from his eyes Jaebum can tell he wouldn’t mind seeing that.

“So long story short,” Tuan says, looking kind of amused by all this tension. Judging from a light smile curling a corner of his lips up, at least. “There’s an operation we can’t carry out by ourselves.”

Jaebum rolls his eyes a little – if CIA has to resort to asking help from South Korea, maybe things are really _that_ sad over there like rumors have it. He tries to remain professional though, at least he doesn’t cringe taking the top manila envelope of the two placed in front of him and shuffling through its contents – it’s just a simple drug operation.

“And why exactly do you need our help?” He can’t resist asking, having enough decency to make it sound as little sarcastic as possible.

“The exchange is happening in Seoul, that’s for starters. Also, we can’t dispatch our agents here without you guys knowing, as you may know from the last time.”

Jaebum remembers that story. He didn’t participate since it was only a few days after he finished his mandatory training, but some idiots from International operations tried to arrest a few members of a radical Korean political movement in the States without having CIA warned. It was a mess – Jaebum thinks he still can hear authorities shouting at the team leader of that operation, and he doesn’t want to hear it directed at him.

“What’s in it for us? And why,” his stare shifts to the lead of Training Division, “Is training involved?”

Jinyoung finally butts in, quickly running his fingers through the keyboard of the laptop he took with himself and a profile of someone appears on a screen at the end of the room. “CIA suspects this person is involved in this whole drug scheme, so if they catch the culprits, we can have him.”

Jaebum incredulously looks at the screen, not quite sure whether they all have gathered here to make fun of him.

He knows the man – the profile belongs to Jackson Wang; ex fencer, almost an Olympic medalist turned variety star, looking just as harmful as a pen Jinyoung has on the table. Sure, he does know that appearance isn’t the best criteria to determine whether a person is dangerous or not, and it’s a public secret that entertainment industry is full of drugs wherever you turn, but…

“And why do _we_ need _him_?” Jaebum asks just in case and Jinyoung points to the remaining manila envelope. He looks through the documents and whistles, accepting his mistake. “Okay, human trafficking, embezzlement, large-scale bribery… I guess that’s reasonable for us to have a word or two with him.”

“We still don’t know if he’s really the guy we need.” Jinyoung notes. “All we know is that he’s always somehow involved in these matters when we investigate other cases, that’s all. He can be the villain we’re searching for, he can be an accomplice, he might not know anything at all, we’ve had cases like that.”

Jaebum leans back in the chair. “So how do we know? What’s the plan?”

“That’s where our cooperation begins, I suppose.” Tuan says, and it kind of irks Jaebum, the fact that it’s been thirty minutes and he still doesn’t know his name. But he has too much pride to ask first. “The plan is actually quite simple, unless you have your own suggestions. We all work together, send our person to get to know Wang while my team is going to work on the drug deal separately. Informing you all about the process, of course.” He adds, seeing Jinyoung’s raised eyebrows. “Then we catch the bad guys together, shake hands, we will board the plane and never see you guys again. How does that sound?”

This entire scheme would sound very attractive to Jaebum, the most standard procedure you could imagine, except for two flaws he sees in it. “What exactly do you mean by ‘getting to know him’, and, I’m asking for the second time, why is the Training division involved?”

Jinyoung sighs. He’s not really a fan of this particular idea, but he has an order to comply with everything CIA needs to do. “By getting to know him… Someone from our joint team will have to… Well…” He stutters, then makes a weird gesture and Jaebum understands.

“Seriously?” It feels like the temperature in the room would’ve dropped a few degrees, judging from how cold his voice sounds. “You couldn’t think of anything else but sleeping with him to get the info? Like fuck I’m going to sleep with him.”

“Nobody said it’s _you_ who’s going to do that, but if you consider yourself a candidate…” Tuan notes and Jaebum darts a stare at him so poisonous, anyone else would have fled the room immediately. Tuan, however, doesn’t even blink and Jaebum is this close to telling him go and fuck himself.

“And to answer your second question,” the lead of Training Division finally decides to join the conversation after spending more than half an hour watching how grown ass men are trying to find any excuse to fight. “I’m here because both of your teams are trained by different specialists and the training you’ve received is very different. We need to match you up, think of team building of some sorts.” She says, and before Jaebum can open his mouth to protest adds, “It’s the least complicated part of this operation. Only a week for you to get used to working together and be able to throw hands at each other without getting punished.”

Jaebum thinks that Tuan would probably snap in half if he tried to fight someone, since he’s so thin, but decides not to announce his opinion out loud. Instead, he says, “Good. I need to get back in shape, I haven’t held a gun in my hand for four months.”

Someone from Tuan’s team mumbles, questioning whether Jaebum is really competent to work here if he hasn’t used a gun for so long; Jinyoung quickly interrupts, seeing how dangerously Jaebum’s chin is protruding, knowing very well what that means. “Okay, then I guess it’s settled. We have around half a year, if I’m not mistaken?” Tuan nods in confirmation, and Jinyoung continues, “It’s a relatively short period, so I suggest deciding on who’s going to—“

“Who’s going to fuck Wang, yeah, sure.” Jaebum says. “We can flip a coin or something. Or if he has an ideal type, just compare the photos and send the closest match or something. I heard he once said he’s into blondes.”

If Tuan looked like he’s about to agree with Jaebum’s second offer, now he only stares at him with a sour expression and says, “We can put our actual skills to use and decide it like we’re used to at work.”

Jaebum knows how they decide things at CIA, and he honestly thinks that it’s the exact reason why they’ve lost so many agents in a year over there. But this time he doesn’t mind.  

 

“You sure about that?” Jinyoung asks him three hours later, when they all are in NIS’s training center, shooting range to be specific, and Jaebum is carefully inspecting the choice of guns he has, as things undoubtedly have changed since he went through the basic shooting training.

“Yeah.” He mumbles, deciding to opt for his favorite, Desert Eagle. It feels unusually heavy in his hand, probably because he hasn’t been using it as often as he used to, but the cold metal doesn’t scare Jaebum at all. In fact, he actually feels calmer, like he would’ve finally returned home. “At the worst case scenario I’m only going to be utterly embarrassed for the rest of the eternity and will have to fuck Jackson Wang.”

The second part technically isn’t _that_ bad – it does help that all things aside Jackson is a year younger than him and, objectively speaking, quite attractive. The drawback, though, is that Jaebum doesn’t like to merge his sex life and work life into one. And also that he hates being embarrassed in his own shooting range.

Jaebum actually didn’t expect that Tuan will be the one up for competition, stepping into the place with that dumb smile on his face, while his team is standing at the back for moral support or whatever. A head of a department rarely steps into the field, at least here in Korea, but Jaebum has to give some props for Tuan for the courage.

A few people from their office are here too – Jaebum can see Yugyeom and his new friends from IT department and a few others, and he hates the irony. In a place where secrets are kept hidden like their lives depend on it, rumors sure fly fast.

“Eagle?” Tuan says, catching Jaebum off guard and making him flinch. He didn’t hear how Jinyoung left and how Tuan creeped on him. “Brave choice. Big, heavy, impractical. Not for small hands for sure.”

“It’s not about what gun you choose, but how you use it, agent Tuan.” Jaebum throws a sarcastic smile at him, watching how the guy picks up a relatively safe option, Glock 19.

“Absolutely correct.” Tuan nods. “My name is Mark by the way, I don’t like to be super formal with my teammates. Even those who want to smash my head into a table.” He adds in flawless Korean and Jaebum almost drops his gun. “You didn’t really think they sent us all the way to Korea without at least one person fluent in the language, did you?”

Jaebum would rather have the shooting range’s floor opening and swallowing him whole than admitting that he really didn’t think about it. He doesn’t say anything as the instructor tells them both to shut up and put on their earmuffs, because no one’s sleeping with Wang if they get deaf.

“Okay,” she says, when both of the agents come closer. “Rules are simple. I have newbies to teach in half an hour, so we are going to do it like this – there are two targets, one for each. Three shots into forehead, three in the belt zone, thirty seconds in total to do this. Zones are marked as per usually, thirty meters, twenty and ten – used them however you need, it doesn’t matter. The most accurate shooter wins, the loser gets sent on a mission to meet Wang.”

The entire crowd of people at the back burst into laughter when they see the targets, even Jaebum has a hard time hiding a snort. Someone from Training division put in some serious work during those three hours they were given to prepare – the targets are life-size standees of both Jaebum and Mark, they both get each other’s.

“Fine by me.” Mark shrugs, putting on his earmuffs.

Jaebum can’t deny his knees are shaking a little when they line up in front of the thirty meters line, checking their pistols for the last time.

 _Breathe in, breathe out – you've got this, Jaebum tells to himself._ Close range gunfights were always his favorites, opposed to fighting barehanded or being a sniper. _He’s definitely got it._

Instructor giving them a start and the barely audible cheering from the colleagues, who are undoubtedly fascinated by this whole deal, blur into one incoherent mess under his earmuffs; Mark doesn’t waste time – Jaebum doubts more than five seconds have passed and he has already heard two gunshots, both precisely going right through Jaebum’s printed forehead.

Jaebum catches himself thinking how Yugyeom would say that it’s because Jaebum’s forehead is so big, it’s hard to miss, but then he realizes he’s wasted ten seconds and moves to the twenty meters line, remembering that the distance doesn’t matter anyway.

Mark seems like he’s decided to divide the bullets equally for all three of the lines – two per each zone – which is not a bad idea, considering Jaebum is still standing next to the line doing nothing but staring at his target.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Jinyoung mumbles to himself, surrounded by his coworkers already wailing that they lost their bets. The countdown clock is counting the last nine seconds and Jaebum hasn’t shot even once.

Mark also looks confused, turning back to Jaebum from the ten meter line and yelling, “Are you going to shoot or not?”

Jaebum face twists into a wide grin when he nods and releases a series of six shots all at once, stopping a second before the time stops and catching Mark off guard – he barely makes it on time to shoot the last time. They stand still after everything’s done, a little out of breath while training instructor is inspecting the targets.

“Tuan, this one is yours.” She finally says and the shooting range gets divided into two groups – wailing NIS employees and cheering CIA visitors; Mark’s teammates come for a friendly punch on his shoulder for a good job as a sign of congratulations.

“How?” Jaebum is sure his bullets should’ve hit the target precisely, because it’s a children’s game compared to how he’s been trained to shoot, but the instructor points into the belt line.

Jaebum can swear that the difference is barely a few millimeters, but it doesn’t change anything – Mark _was_ more accurate.

“I guess Wang will have to change his ideal type to brunettes now.” Mark laughs and Jaebum’s insides boil at the obvious mockery in his voice, as if Mark knew he would win.

“Can I have one more shot?” Jaebum asks the instructor.

She shrugs and tells, “You had six shots already. If you want to empty the magazine, you can, but it won‘t change anything. Agent Tuan won this one fair and square.“

Jaebum doesn‘t listen to her anymore, all he needed was a permission to shoot. And so he does – one quick and light shot into the target and he‘s satisfied, taking his earmuffs off and dumping it all into Mark‘s arms with a wide sarcastic smile before leaving the range.

Mark‘s a little confused, but when he looks at the target it suddenly clicks in his head – why Jaebum asked for one extra shot and how it relates to what he has said earlier. Suddenly, he‘s not sure whether to laugh or call Jaebum insane. Perhaps both.

There are three holes in the forehead of the target with Mark‘s face on it, three holes in the belt area.

And the seventh hole is placed right in the center of the target‘s _crotch_ , undoubtedly on purpose.

_They sure are going to have fun working together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jaebum is sure fun at parties lol. anyway, i hope you liked this mess, comments and everything are very welcomed, you know how i love those.  
> i doubt weekly updates will be a thing, because uni deadlines have me :/ so, to make up for it, i promise longer chapters. 
> 
> happy 1st win tho, fellows!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're going into trigger warnings in the 2nd chapter, this is a new low even for me, but oh well.
> 
> tw: descriptions of drowning, and some blood here and there

Most of the time, Jaebum is a rather patient person – being a field agent and working undercover for weeks and even long months has taught him how to calm himself down, clench his jaw and proceed towards his goal despite minor inconveniences he might run into.

Mark Tuan, however, isn’t a _minor inconvenience_ – he’s an annoying pain in the ass, falling short in comparison maybe only to the four horsemen of apocalypse.

It’s not like Jaebum doesn’t even try – god sees, he’s tried his best to look at the newest colleague without showing that he’d appreciate if Tuan poofed into air and never reappeared. Even when Jinyoung holds case briefings and data analysis sessions at 7:30 AM every single day, and his still sleeping brain can follow only his basic instincts, Jaebum tries to ignore that bugging feeling inside his head, telling that one more annoyingly sarcastic smile of Tuan’s and his perfectly white American teeth will get smashed out.

Later, he tries to imagine that Mark Tuan simply doesn’t exist, that the chair in front of him in the briefing room is empty and everyone’s finally lost their mind for good, talking to a ghost instead of the head of Special Activities Division. But unfortunately, none of his strategies have worked so far, and Jaebum, much to his own dissatisfaction, has to admit that Mark is indeed a very alive creature in front of him, obviously feeding off his irritation.

Jinyoung says he should get over his ego, which was destroyed in that shooting range a few days ago, and start acting like a grown up adult. Jaebum tells him that if he mentions that damned day one more time, it’s Jinyoung who’s going to get shot.

Yugyeom tells all of them to shut up and stop bickering during one particular briefing, when Mark sends another snarky comment directed at Jaebum. He didn’t spend the whole night awake trying to hack into Wang’s email only to hear Jaebum breaking into series of finest Korean curses ten minutes into the meeting.

The latter, holding a stack of papers in one hand and a huge cup of coffee in another, because they started this at _7 AM on a Saturday morning_ , wants to ask who does Yugyeom think he is, talking with his hyung and former team leader like that. He opts for another topic instead though, frowning and waving the papers. “This is only like a month worth of his mail.”

“And?” Yugyeom’s head rises from a laptop looking like he just said the most idiotic thing he could ever come up with. Jinyoung stops in the middle of explaining something to one of Mark’s teammates; Mark himself doesn’t look like he’s listening, having declared a nap time a few minutes ago.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe, only _maybe_ ,” Jaebum says, putting his cup down, “I need to know more than the past 30 days of his life if I want to return from this whole shit alive? Or do you think his Gucci newsletters will help me dig out how he’s related to all those drug deals?” with a corner of his eyes Jaebum can see how Mark’s shoulders move in a poorly hidden giggle, even though he still pretends to be napping, resting his head on the table.

“I’m not a magician, hyung.” Yugyeom mumbles, this time softly and even apologetically, darting his stare back at the screen of his computer. His fingers are slamming the keyboard in such speed, Jaebum has a hard time seeing anything else but a blur. “I can’t extract huge amounts of data in one go, or do that very often, in case he has something or someone watching his networks – and if he’s smart enough, I’m sure he has. I don’t want us to get caught even before we start, so please, hyung, just shut up and work with whatever we have now.”

Jaebum has to agree it sounds logical and reasonable, but Mark’s words make him a little surprised, when he suddenly raises his head as if he’d be rising from the dead and tells, “Wang doesn’t really come across as a very bright criminal, though.”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asks in English, even though Jaebum has already disclosed him the entire drill about Mark’s Korean skills during his evening ranting session right after the shooting fiasco. It’s an unwritten rule among the newly made team members – talk so that everyone could understand, or don’t talk at all.

“He’s so easy to track down, it’s weird. See?” He takes a bunch of documents from a folder beside him and Jaebum can catch a glimpse at Mark’s rather neat handwriting, made mostly with a red sharpie. “In 2015, a bribery worth one hundred million won to the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, to put one of his people into worldwide fencing championship. 2016, drug exchange suspected to have taken place in his own house in Jeju. Last year – both drugs and bribing, this time in China. He’s always so obviously and stupidly involved, it doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s like he doesn’t care if he gets caught.” Jinyoung mumbles, quickly skimming through the papers. “He’s either a risk taker or very stupid and lucky.”

Jaebum, stretching out in his office chair, says, “Or just backed by someone rich and influential enough. Where does his money usually go?”

“Sports organizations, broadcasting stations, media companies.” Mark counts on his fingers, as if afraid to miss something. “He has a few fencing centers both in China and Korea, according to him, to educate and help young talents grow. Seeing how quickly these _talents_ land their medals in international championships when everyone says they’re barely qualified for last places says a lot about how those centers operate. The people from a model agency he co-owns have taken up almost half of airtime in every possible broadcasting station. No surprise that other agencies are fuming mad.”

“That agency he co-owns.” Jinyoung says, but a frown never really goes away from his face – his default expression whenever they discuss things related to Jackson Wang nowadays. “Who’s the other owner?”

“In all the official documents, some guy named Choi Youngjae.”

Jaebum quickly realizes the catch hidden in the sentence. “In documents?”

“We believe it’s some sort of scheme related to taxes. In documents, the agency is split into two separate companies, so they could pretend Wang doesn't earn that much to be heavily taxed. Otherwise he'd need to pay an awful lot of money to the government.” Mark explains. “We don’t know much about this particular Youngjae yet, but I assume he’s a close friend or something, who agreed to help out. However, everyone knows both companies are still managed by Wang, that Choi guy has no real power.”

Jinyoung puts the papers down with a sigh escaping his lips. “Where does he get all that money from? He’s only twenty-five, but he seems like he could be bathing in his own money.”

“He’s been out there ever since childhood.” It’s Yugyeom’s time to share his findings. “Potential criminal or not, he really _is_ talented, and has been winning gold medals ever since he stepped into competitions – those medals come together with solid sums of money. Commercial deals followed and he proceeded to make profit – one of the emails I managed to get is discussing a sponsoring deal, some sportswear company is ready to throw fifty million won at him for going to an event with their sneakers. He’s also made a lot of smart investments, so basically he could retire this very second and his money would continue making money for him for the rest of his life.”

Someone from Mark’s team asks, “Maybe someone’s just jealous then? Constantly setting him up and stuff, that’s why he’s so openly involved in everything?”

“Unlikely.” Jaebum decides. “When you want to roast someone’s ass publicly out of mere jealousy, you drag all the dirt you have on them to media to generate buzz, not silently through intelligence services.”

“That,” Mark agrees with a nod and Jaebum notices how a sarcastic grin appears on his face a little too late. “Or some people just opt for shooting someone in the crotch as a coping mechanism when their ego gets bruised.”

Sometimes Jaebum wishes it wouldn’t have been only a target that day, but real Mark Tuan instead.

And that wish goes from _sometimes_ to something very permanent when Jinyoung, sensing that there’s another banter coming up, hands him another bunch of papers, saying, “You have a meeting with Wang scheduled next week on Wednesday, 12 PM.”

Jaebum has already come to terms with the fact that this is it, he’s really the one to be doing this whole thing and risking his life again, because who the hell knows who Jackson Wang really is and what he’s capable of – but at the same time, up until now he tried to pretend that the day when he starts this operation won’t come that soon, if at all.

“What’s my cover?” He asks after a slight pause, trying not to look too tense. If he came this far to forge his entire medical evaluation in the database so he’d be put back to work again, he might as well stick with it.

“You’re an aspiring fencer.” Mark says, carefully inspecting even the slightest movement of his, probably waiting for another outburst of Jaebum’s. As much as he’s amused by his Korean colleague being an asshole without having any reason to be like that, he’s also getting a little annoyed by his antics. “With a recommendation of one of the National Fencing Federation higher-ups, you want to get…” he makes a pause. “Private lessons.”

Jaebum decides not to express how _private lessons_ sound to him; with the way Mark says it, he wants to ask what those private lessons are really going to be on – but he knows already. And instead of angry, this time it makes him rather helpless.

He’s always been okay at acting – he’s done a decent job pretending to be a passerby during a drug exchange on his very first mission when he was twenty-one; he’s average at pretending to be dead, even though the memory of that night still haunts him.

He got shot during one of the missions and fell face first into a pond, while his attacker was walking around waiting for him to get up. Jaebum remembers that contradicting situation way too well, not being allowed to breathe if he wanted to stay alive for at least a little longer. He remembers praying that his body wouldn’t move in a desperate attempt to get some air, and wondering whether the darkness around him is the darkness of the night and dirty water, or those bits of consciousness leaving him one by one with every second he spent without oxygen. He remembers the feeling of his body sinking down deeper and deeper and how he tried to distract himself from thinking that he’s about to suffocate. Jaebum’s wary of water ever since.

But even if his acting is alright to the level where he’s able to survive – he still sucks at acting out _feelings_.

That’s why a mission where he’ll need to adapt to a whole new person in a way he’d be able to lure out certain bits of information from him… Jaebum finds it scary.

He has always thought that getting information out of someone’s lips should be a job for people who work in their Interrogation Group – he’s worried that his true emotions and disgust will surface at one point or another, and he’ll fail to complete his mission at the best case scenario, or will be killed on the spot at the worst.

“I’m twenty-five. People this age don’t suddenly realize they’re good at fencing to the level of getting recommended by a federation.” He says; but it’s only small details, almost irrelevant, only to make sure Wang truly won’t be able to add two and two during the first three seconds of their meeting, “I haven’t held a rapier in my hand ever before.”

“Good thing we have your back.” Mark tells, pushing something in front of him. Jaebum is ready to sigh if it’s some beginner fencing training or something, but it’s a manila envelope containing a new passport and family registry documents. “You’re now officially the successor of Im Enterprises, a successful investment company, after your CEO father has died. In other words, a fussy spoiled brat who’s a little bored and after seeing Wang on TV wants to learn fencing. It shouldn’t be hard to make the first part believable, right?” Mark smiles, and Jaebum takes a deep breath so that he really wouldn’t punch Tuan in the face – he can save that for a training session scheduled right after the briefing.

“I think you should be more suitable for this, then.” He bites back instead, while the rest of the people in the room roll their eyes, slowly getting tired of their childish arguments. “Anyway, back to Im Enterprises. Do those even exist and if the question arises, what should I tell Wang about it?”

“It’s totally fictional, but we’re working on getting all the right documents. NIS will be covering most of your expenses related to this case, so that your rich spoiled asshole image would look at least plausible.” Jinyoung looks at him critically and it’s Jaebum who rolls his eyes now, because Park Jinyoung really isn’t the right person to lecture someone about a rich image when he’s wearing the same socks from last week. “Other than that, if you become Wang’s sweetheart, I’m sure you’re going to be allowed to have a blast with his black card, the protocol doesn’t say a word about it.”

Laughter can be heard in the room, even Jaebum himself smiles a little – he has never imagined he will possibly be getting a sugar daddy during a mission. Sucks that this particular sugar daddy could probably stab him with a rapier faster than Jaebum is able to spell his name, though.

 

Usually, their training sessions go something like that – they get into random pairs, Jaebum always makes sure Jinyoung would be his partner, despite others protesting that this isn’t team building at all then; after that, they pretend to be kicking each other’s asses for three hours and the instructor helplessly lets them go, because the CIA part of the team does absolutely the same, or worse, nothing at all, chitchatting and playing around.

That particular day at 1 PM though, karma decides to bite Jaebum in the ass for good.

“Enough games.” The instructor says, this time a middle-aged man, looking like he could knock out all of them with his eyes closed and one hand behind his back. Jaebum thinks he’s a new one, at least he hasn’t seen him ever before. According to the man, the lead of Training Division is abroad for the upcoming week, training weaklings in Japan or something. “It’s the last week of team building before you move onto your next task of dealing with Wang, so you need to be prepared.”

A disapproving mumble spreads through both Korean and American agents, because _seriously_ , they’ve been working in this field for years already, they’re trained enough both individually and for working in teams. At least Jaebum thinks so, until he’s paired with one of Mark’s teammates, the same girl who made fun of his allegedly inexistent English skills during the very first briefing. If Jaebum recalls right, her last name is Peters, but that doesn’t help him at all, as he’s hopelessly standing in front of her armed with nothing but his bare hands and having no clue what to do now.

He doesn’t really want to punch her first, especially when so far the girl hasn’t even moved, only followed him with her green eyes and a hawk-like stare; a voice in his head tells him to stop being ridiculous – a girl or not, she’s just as trained and potentially dangerous as everyone else in the room, so he makes a step forward, but he’s too reluctant and slow. And this reluctance has him lying on the training room floor feeling like his nose was just stuffed back into his skull in mere seconds.

Someone laughs, Jaebum can clearly hear someone saying, “We told you not to aim for the face, Peters, we can’t afford having his nose broken now.” He wants to say something, but all the noises are drowned by a feeling of horrendous familiarity – Jaebum has been in this situation before.

With Bambam.

 

_It’s perhaps the scared eyes of the boy, Jaebum thinks, that make him stop for a while – he was asked by the Division lead to drop by during one of the training sessions; his team can’t really fully operate with only three people and there are too many newbies not to pick one of them._

_Bambam’s eyes look like a textbook definition of deer in headlights when Jaebum looks at him, trying to ignore various shouts and sounds coming from a bunch eighteen, nineteen year olds doing their best to impress both their training instructor and the team leader of Criminal Investigative Division. Jaebum is quite famous in NIS already, everyone knows he’s incredibly strict, but kind where he needs to be, demanding way too much than an average new agent could handle, but friendly when they’re not working._

_And hard to impress as well, so that’s why Jaebum witnesses a lot of things with a stone cold face that day – a few broken arms and a sprained ankle, when trainees decide to do tricks they’re far from being ready for; helpless and disappointed mumbles when suddenly all the guns in the shooting range don’t shoot with the desired precision anymore, only because Jaebum’s eyes are scrutinizing every single moment, leaving everyone anxious._

_Perhaps that’s how Bambam is different – he’s not yelling, he’s not trying to impress anyone by fighting his friends and knocking them out. He’s simply standing next to training equipment and doesn’t do anything except for following Jaebum with his dark eyes._

_“Who is he?” Jaebum asks the chief instructor, who’s checking pistols for an upcoming shooting practice._

_At first the instructor has a hard time realizing who Jaebum has in mind, but when her eyes spot the guy, she says, “Oh, that kid. Kunpimook. He’s from Thailand, we recruited him fresh out of high school during our annual training camp in Bangkok.” Jaebum feels like his brain is losing focus at a difficult foreign name, but everything’s fine the same moment he’s told he can call him Bambam. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders, but is a little weak when it comes to physical tasks. Still top-notch condition compared to your average nineteen year olds, but nothing exceptional, if you’re considering him.”_

_Jaebum isn’t – for a while he even forgets the guy, watching how two trainees engage in a fight with their bare hands. If he needed to make a comparison, he’d say it’s the same as watching a toddler trying to walk, moves are so uncoordinated and miscalculated, they’re trying to show off too much for it to be an effective actual fight. In layman’s terms, a decent material for stuntmen in action movies, totally useless for an NIS agent-to-be._

_He remembers Bambam only when he’s about to head back to the office for a briefing, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see anything impressive; Jaebum notices Bambam checking ropes the training center has, mostly used for those rare tasks when all the trainees are allowed to use anything they are able to find while fighting their designated enemy. He gets interested, because he remembers how everyone usually hated these kind of tasks, because it requires too much thinking; it’s not exactly a surprise that Bambam drops a piece of rope in surprise when Jaebum comes up to him._

_“Bambam, right?” the guy nods. His greeting is a little clumsy, with thick, accented Korean, and confusion triples in his eyes when Jaebum takes off his office ID so that it wouldn’t get in his way, telling, “Okay, Bambam, I want you to fight me.”_

_The entire place quiets down in seconds despite all the previous noises. Everyone’s sure that Bambam has gotten himself in trouble somehow, because there’s no other explanation why a senior would openly ask for that, so of course everyone’s interested, circling Jaebum and Bambam to watch what’s about to go down._

_Bambam refuses at first – he says something about not wanting to, but Jaebum only laughs. “You’re not going to be in trouble, I promise. Sometimes… In certain cases, it’s not impossible that you’ll need to fight people whom you thought are your friends, seniors, even family.” He says, more to everyone than Bambam only. “So simply view it as a part of your training.”_

_Bambam looks like he doesn’t know what to do or why he’s even here when Jaebum attacks him without any warning, grabbing him by his arm and twisting it behind the guy’s back kind of disappointed. He’s met with absolutely no resistance, just with the same doe-eyed hurt stare when he pulls Bambam’s arm a little too harshly._

_It’s the moment when Jaebum makes a crucial mistake of loosening his grip; maybe he should’ve remembered what the chief instructor has told him about Bambam being smart._

_That’s why the same second he can finally move his arm more freely due to Jaebum not wanting to hurt him any more, Bambam uses it against him, punching the guy in his stomach with his left elbow and catching him off guard, leaving Jaebum out of breath for a moment. Bambam spends those few spare seconds to grab the piece of rope he left on the floor, and Jaebum doesn’t even make it on time to move away from such an unusual choice of weapon, when the said rope is tightly pressing against his neck, making it hard for him to breathe again._

_Jaebum gets intrigued, but opts for his usual trick, to step on the attacker’s foot and then elbow them right in their nose, but Bambam’s faster and on the flexible side – he avoids the hit by leaning back and Jaebum himself is met with a punch from the bottom of Bambam’s palm right in his nose, leaving him lying on the ground with a nosebleed._

_No one’s congratulating Bambam – everyone’s pretty sure that having a senior field agent, a team leader on top of that, with a potentially broken nose isn’t a great idea. Even if it’s only training and they attacked you first._

_Bambam looks perplexed by his own actions too, anxiously biting his lips and waiting for Jaebum to stand up. It takes time – the latter is a little disoriented from the punch, but Bambam’s face turns into of pure terror when he just stands there, putting his office ID back on without a word; he’s sure that he can go back to the dorm and pack his things to return to Thailand._

_However, Jaebum, before leaving the place with a napkin pressed against his bleeding nose, only smiles saying, “Come find me in the Criminal Investigative Division office tomorrow at 9 AM, Bambam. We need to sign some papers to transfer you to my team.”_

_Bambam hasn’t felt this confused in his entire life, but Jaebum only waves at him with a bloody napkin and heads out._

_When Yugyeom in the office asks what on earth happened, Jaebum only laughs and says he deserved it._

“Is he okay?” Jaebum hears someone in the background, but the voice is silent, as if coming from far away. For some reason it’s hard to open his eyes – perhaps because of the punch, or maybe because of the memories it triggered.

He always tries not think about Bambam, he tries not to think at all; his memories are like knives, threatening to cut open every inch of his skin, and unfortunately, Jaebum has never been good at handling knives.

Jaebum sees Jinyoung and Mark’s concerned faces; they’re leaning in to see if he’s at least fully conscious. Only then he finally snaps out of it, looking at Mark’s hand he’s reaching out to help him stand up like at a disgusting, deadly spider. Mark only shakes his head at this, but doesn’t make any comments, turning around to scold the girl who knocked Jaebum out for good five minutes.

It’s just training, Jaebum hears him saying, voice uncharacteristically strict and serious, no matter how much they dislike each other, there’s no need to go all out.

The training instructor seems to share the same sentiment as he says, “Okay, I feel like I made a few mistakes here. Let’s regroup, shall we? Peters, don’t kill Park. Im, be gentle with Tuan.”

Jaebum can’t exactly tell what he finds worse – the fact that he was knocked out for this long thanks to his stupidity, or that he’s paired with Tuan, who now looks like he’s shooting a CF while drinking water.

“I’m not sure if he’s capable of being gentle, chief.” Mark laughs, throwing the empty water bottle away and brushing his blonde hair away from his forehead, what annoys Jaebum even more. “Who’s Bambam, by the way?” he asks, this time in Korean, when everyone stops paying attention to them, busy training in new pairs.

Jaebum, tying his shoelace, immediately darts his stare at the guy – Mark clearly has no idea what he just asked. “Where do you know that name from?” He asks, slowly standing up. Jaebum’s breath hitches like it does every time the topic appears to be turning anywhere near the Thai boy.

“You mumbled it while lying on the floor.” Mark shrugs, standing in front of Jaebum and ready to start their little cozy exercise with a wide smile on his face, having absolutely no clue how dangerous the territory he’s about to enter is. “That’s why we were concerned about you. You were talking with someone, not a good sign.”

“None of your business, Tuan.” Jaebum replies, in his own opinion rather calmly, and clenches his fists, because he’s absolutely sure that Mark is just trying to distract him so he could attack without a warning.

“I just wonder who that could be.” Jaebum doesn’t notice it, but Mark actually is pretty aware of what he’s doing – not fully, obviously, but he knows. He notices how the name gets Jaebum all worked up, so of course he’s going to use it, as long as he can make a sarcastic joke out of it. “Relative? Lover?”

Jaebum doesn’t answer, trying to predict what his opponent is about to do – Tuan’s being an asshole, water is wet, it’s not hard to just ignore it. Until he crosses a line.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me it’s like, some stupid past ghost of yours for whose death you feel responsible, or whatever is on TV dramas these days.”

After those words time stops for Jaebum – everything goes red around him, and the clock starts ticking only when his left fist lands on Mark’s jaw, punching while yelling something; nobody has enough time to separate them – they’re standing frozen in their places because it happens too suddenly and out of the blue.

Mark can’t deny, he’s taken aback – he didn’t expect Jaebum to jump on him like a cornered animal fighting for his life. It’s hard to shake Jaebum off, when the latter’s movements are totally uncontrollable even for him himself, every punch burning with this weird and scary anger. Nevertheless, somehow Mark manages to push Jaebum away, ducking and grabbing him by his leg when Jaebum wants to kick him, ironically enough, in the crotch area again.

It’s like they’ve found a perfect training buddy for each other – where Jaebum kicks, Mark moves away, where Mark punches, Jaebum blocks, so no one’s actually winning, and the pent up tension between them starts to remind of a dance of some sorts.

A very violent dance and not exactly a graceful one, but well-rehearsed and precise nevertheless. It lasts for a few more moments, until Jaebum feels his anger burning out and exhaustion kicking in once he realizes that he can punch Mark however much he wants, but that won’t make him feel better – and Mark grabs him by his leg once again to finally tackle him down on the floor, sitting on his back and holding Jaebum’s neck with one hand, so that he really wouldn’t be able to move anymore.  

“Don’t let your emotions get in the way.” Mark hisses into his ear. “Your aim is shitty when you’re mad.”

“Enough of this madness, you’re seriously going to kill each other.” The instructor says, as if he would’ve snapped out of a trance of some sorts only now. He can’t deny though, he’s a little proud of Jaebum for not giving up without putting up a fight, even if he doesn’t know what provoked such anger.

“Let me go.” Jaebum says, feeling the metallic taste from the blood on his lips mixing with the bitter taste of dust on the floor. Mark, however, seems like he’s not into this idea.

“Only after you calm the fuck down.” He replies, wiping his mouth with the back of his free palm. Mark is not exactly surprised feeling it sting and seeing strings of blood on his palm, because Jaebum definitely didn’t go gentle on him.

Jaebum sighs and tries to get up with such force, it leaves Mark falling on his side on the floor as well.

“I was just joking, dude, what the hell.” Mark says, checking if the rest of his face is more or less okay.

Jaebum’s only answer before storming out of the training center is, “Go fuck yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone save jaebum tbh, he got his ass beaten 3 times in one chapter. but we somehow have the entire ot7 mentioned at least once, so that's a win! also, mark taking the joke too far is solely because people voted like this on twitter in my poll when i was super confused, so blame yourselves about jaebum getting hurt lol  
> this is probably the last update for these upcoming 2 weeks, because i have to submit a big part of my graduation thesis to my advisor next monday, and i should start making some progress there lmao. anyway, i hope you liked this mess, comments are always welcomed, and also, happy easter to those who are celebrating!
> 
> writing people moving is... hard, i'm sorry if it's not vivid enough, by the way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm back with trigger warnings
> 
> tw: vomiting, strangling, just some dark thoughts in general

If Jaebum ever had to describe how his life works, at first he’d probably tell you he’s not very good with words to portray it; but later he would say that the general mechanism behind him reminds of a light switch.

Sometimes – a lot of times, actually, and mostly it’s not even fake – the light switch is on. Jaebum is concentrated enough to push through his daily tasks with a genuine smile on his face whenever someone cracks a joke in the office or when he watches stupid variety shows on TV, stuffing himself with his favorite chicken takeout. When the light switch is on, Jaebum feels kind of happy, or at least content with who he is at the moment. It’s not hard to breathe on those days, and he doesn’t leave his TV on for the night.

The days when his light switch is off are dark, both literally and figuratively.

On those days, Jaebum has trouble sleeping just like he has trouble getting out of bed, waiting till the very last second if he has important meetings. If there are no meetings scheduled, sometimes he can’t even force himself to go to work – being demoted to an office worker for a few months in a department run by a friend who is eager to cover your ass has its perks. When the light switch is off, Jaebum’s days are passing by in a blur, one so similar to another. There can’t be much difference to it when all you can do is curl into a ball, sometimes in the middle of the room because Jaebum can’t be bothered to even reach the sofa, and yell; scream, hoping to overpower the sounds of explosion in his head.

Mark Tuan is responsible for Jaebum’s inner light switch getting turned off this time.

He’s the reason why memories flood Jaebum’s head again as he’s heading back from the training center that day, feeling his lip corner still stinging from Mark’s punches. He’s the reason why Jaebum can’t concentrate back at home anymore and his mind strays away from documents he’s trying to read to distract himself.  

Jaebum can’t pinpoint for sure what exactly he’s angry about – perhaps it’s that the Thai boy still is, and probably forever will be, a forbidden topic never mentioned by anyone when he’s around. Or maybe it’s just Mark, taking it upon himself to open the biggest wound Jaebum has ever had; he doesn’t know.

All Jaebum knows is that he’s _angry_ , he’s so, so angry and the anger never subsides – the documents about Wang are tossed across his room, shards of his favorite cup are scattered next to one of the walls and yesterday’s leftovers are somewhere on the ground instead of the table. Everything is fire red under Jaebum’s closed eyes when he lies down, and the taste of anger is a little bitter.

The whole problem is that Jaebum _does_ feel guilty – and when you declare yourself guilty for something you have no power to change anymore, it’s a straight way to hell.

Jaebum’s hell is his memories, and boy does he remember them clearly – it feels like those particular memories are always waiting for a signal to resurface, they always pop up in front of his eyes in less than seconds. Jaebum recalls how he signed documents which officially appointed his team members to their positions during a new mission; he knows that _his_ signature sealed Bambam’s future.

The Thai agent was pestering him nonstop as soon as he heard about a new mission assigned to their division, bored to death during the usual probationary period in the office. That period always consists mostly of taking care of mission paperwork and some minor tasks, such as helping out local police stations if they need, and Bambam argued that he didn’t train for one and a half year to do that. So Jaebum gave in, unable to ignore of the guy’s constant begging – that’s the sole reason why Jinyoung, originally supposed to go instead of Bambam, was left in the headquarters to take care of communication and backup. _Jaebum_ switched them up in documents, thinking it’s really about time their new agent gets some real experience.

They all got some real experience during that mission, but it wasn’t the experience they wanted.

Usually, Jaebum never finds it in himself to wonder whether things would’ve been somehow different if they had worked according to the original plan. He’s never believed in alternate endings, and yet that evening he can’t help but think about it.

_Maybe, simply because he’s more experienced, Jinyoung would’ve noticed the explosives earlier; maybe he wouldn’t have fought so recklessly only to lure an attacker away from Jaebum; perhaps Bambam would’ve been safe and sound in the headquarters if Jaebum hadn’t signed those papers – but what would’ve happened to Jinyoung then—_

Jaebum finds his thoughts mixing into one poisonous concoction that’s spreading throughout his body and eventually those thoughts try to escape as he winds up in the bathroom trying to vomit his guts out; however, nothing comes out of his mouth, asides a few retches shaking his body like electricity.

He tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but nothing really helps, so he looks at the bathroom mirror without hiding his disgust. The reflection makes him want to beat at it and smash out the image he sees; he doesn’t know what to do with this feeling – it’s been there for a while, but it’s never been _this_ bad.

In the mirror, everything seems more or less the same like it did a year ago, Jaebum thinks, washing his face to get rid of cold sweat on his forehead – the same face, same brown hair, and yet there’s something different.

Jaebum’s stare is dead, there’s not a hint of life in those once sharp eyes – and he, searching for a towel, thinks it’s only fair.

He gets distracted by a phone ringing in a pocket of his sweatpants, however it’s not a distraction he’d like to get right now; the caller ID makes him feel even worse. It’s his mother.

The conversation goes like it always does – Jaebum tries to erase all the emotions from his voice, his mom asks what he’s up to these days. He tells he’s not doing anything much and then she proceeds to nag that if Jaebum has free time, he could at least call, or visit his family more than once or twice a year for a few hours.

“Can we expect to see you home for Chuseok?” she asks, while Jaebum is sitting down on the bathroom floor, hating how hopeful her voice sounds, as if they wouldn’t have this conversation every year in the beginning of September. “Our neighbors soon will start thinking we’re lying about having a son.”

“I’m sorry, mom.” Jaebum mumbles; he really is. “I’ll be working.”

This time it’s barely a lie though, but there’s an already familiar disappointed sigh on the other end of the line; and even though they’re having this conversation for about the fourth year in a row, it breaks Jaebum’s heart all the same.

“Is working for those American people really this important that they can’t give you at least two free days a year to spend a holiday with your family?”

That’s when Jaebum tightly closes his eyes, so careful about tears welling up in them.

Just like Bambam’s family was convinced their son was in Korea to attend law school, or how Yugyeom’s father believes the guy is an IT specialist in a local court office, Jaebum’s parents are fed lies too – and in those lies, their only child is working for an American real estate company.

It’s easier than to tell them he’s a field agent in NIS, potentially putting a target on the backs of Jaebum’s entire family. Thanks to NIS, Jaebum included, a lot of people have been put to jail, a lot of terrorist groups have been disbanded, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if there were some grudges left – and everyone knows that family and loved ones are the best targets for revenge.

An American company is a perfect excuse why Jaebum doesn’t come home for holidays often, if at all; traditional Korean holidays are regular working days for them, and Jaebum can think of an excuse for any other holiday or birthday left.

But being able to make excuses doesn’t equal being happy about it.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. He wants to apologize for being such a terrible son, but all he can force out of his mouth is, “I have work to do mom, I need to go.”

After another heavy sigh ripping Jaebum’s heart in pieces, his mom tells him to take care of himself and rest when he can. Then the call finally ends, leaving him hugging his knees and regretting almost everything he’s done in life so far – or to be exact, a decision he made after turning nineteen.

He’s already served in army, that’s where everything started. Jaebum didn’t know what to do with his life after high school graduation, much like a lot of people his age – he didn’t feel like studying business like his parents advised him to, he didn’t want to become a doctor like his homeroom teacher expected him to. So instead of making a decision, Jaebum enlisted to win two more years for himself to come up with a solid future plan.

He didn’t expect it – Jaebum has always thought about himself as a quite average human being – but he was talented. He was one of the fastest to understand how most guns work or where to punch that the enemy wouldn’t stand up anymore. He was also one of the first to realize that sometimes it’s not about who has a more powerful gun in their hands or who can cause more pain and damage with their fists.

One could say he weaseled his way out of the tasks he didn’t like during his military training. Jaebum always found a shortcut during long distance running tasks when the authorities wouldn’t look and would reappear only near the finish line; during tactical training, instead lying somewhere in mud or bushes with a gun next to himself for hours, Jaebum would hide and wait for everyone to eliminate each other, and then get rid of the last one standing.

And while he thought he’s super smart for coming up with such ideas and no one noticing it, everything was actually known to one of his seniors, who once spotted him disappearing into the bushes when they had to run a distance of ten kilometers. When he was called into the office, Jaebum thought he’s about to get punished or even kicked out, but it turned out that this particular senior was associated with some higher institutions and a few weeks before Jaebum’s discharge he got an offer to try out training for something called Special Forces.

Those forces turned out to be a pretty and flashy name to field agents in NIS, but Jaebum got to know that only after the first month, when it felt like his muscles are about to explode into dust from vigorous training.

After that month, they asked him if Jaebum wants to stay or quit. Jaebum, a naïve twenty-one year old boy at the time, wanted to help save the world, so the physical training got even more difficult and his head felt like it’s about to reach overdrive with all the classes about national security he had to take and take exams from, because becoming a field agent definitely isn’t that easy.

Turns out, twenty-five year old Jaebum needs to be saved himself before he can continue saving the world.

At some point, while thinking about his past and present, and all those mixing together into one incoherent blur, Jaebum falls asleep, right there on the bathroom floor while hugging himself. It’s not a calm sleep, far from it, but it’s all familiar to him; he hasn’t slept properly for the past year.

_Jaebum is in Shilla again. He can see everyone preparing for the final day of their mission – Bambam is helping Yugyeom to put on a bulletproof vest, while the latter is confirming the last details with someone over the phone. It’s a nice spring day, everyone’s glad that it’s the last day of working undercover in that hotel – being a receptionist, even though a fake one, never really suited Yugyeom and Bambam hated cleaning rooms._

_Jaebum is looking at them from a distance, thinking he should go tell them to get ready faster, because they have a whole nerve-wracking day ahead; he doesn’t move as Yugyeom starts laughing at some joke Bambam tells – Jaebum laughs too, but no sounds come out of his mouth._

_Somehow he doesn’t panic about that – perhaps a tiny part of his mind is aware that it’s just a dream, just a recap of that fateful day his subconscious can recreate so perfectly. Bambam is putting a gun behind the waistband of his pants, Yugyeom is doing the same, just picking his suit pocket instead. Someone else, someone that should be Jaebum but now is only a figure with blurry contours, is taking care of civilians by guiding them out of the building fully convinced it’s a new type of a fire drill and they’re about to get an excursion in a local fire station._

_Then it fast-forwards to the part when their attackers come in, seemingly to check-in, and innocently chitchat with the receptionist Yugyeom, loudly wondering why does the building seem so empty today. Not the tourist season yet, says the receptionist, flashing a polite but friendly smile – the precision in which Jaebum’s mind can recreate that moment is scary._

_They must’ve seen it through, something must’ve given away Yugyeom’s disguise, because the moment he reaches his hand out to take a credit card of one of the new guests, the latter roughly grabs him by the wrist, almost pulling him out of the desk. Bambam quickly joins them, as he was walking around pretending to clean, and the fight starts – just that it happens without Jaebum, as if he would’ve never been there. He can only watch this from afar._

_“Interesting, isn’t it.” Jaebum hears a voice. It’s Jinyoung with a smile on his face, grinning at all the shouts and gunshots. He’s standing next to Jaebum, with a hand around the latter’s shoulders. It feels unusually cold all of a sudden and Jaebum tries to shake the hand off, but it’s like glued._

_“What is?” he tries asking, forgetting that his voice won’t come out, but surprisingly it does this time._

_“The fact that if you knew what’s going to happen, you would’ve changed places with him. You would, right?”_

_Jaebum doesn’t even think before nodding, watching how Bambam knocks out two of the terrorists despite glass shards falling on them and cutting his skin. Yugyeom gets shot for the second time._

_“Would you change places with me?” Jinyoung asks, and then the part of Jaebum’s brain aware that it’s only a dream turns off. It feels too real, his colleague’s heavy grip on his neck, as Jinyoung’s hissing, “Would you do the same, if I was the one to die?” the guy repeats, pressing his fingers against Jaebum’s throat even harder, and Jaebum begs to stop, but no sounds can escape his mouth again._

_He’s is aware he’s dying, but Bambam is about to as well; he’s about to kick the knife out of his attacker’s hands and they all know how that one ends. Jaebum hopes Jinyoung will kill him soon enough, so he wouldn’t need to witness that scene twice and his surroundings start getting darker as if he’d be drowning again. For a second it seems like it’s not Jinyoung anymore strangling him, but Tuan, and—_

And then Jaebum wakes up, coughing and choking on air, still on the cold tiles of his bathroom.

There’s no Shilla, no Bambam, no one’s strangling him. The clock of his phone shows a couple of minutes after midnight, so he must’ve spent quite a while here. Ironically, it’s the longest he has slept in months; Jaebum just keeps staring at a wall in front of himself waiting for his racing heart to calm down.

 _It’s just a dream, just a nightmare – you’ve been there, Jaebum; none of this is real._ That’s what he tries to convince himself with, but when he finally relocates and puts his head on a pillow in the living room, refusing to turn off the TV again, sleep doesn’t come anymore. All Jaebum feels is fingers on his neck; it feels so real it doesn’t remind of a dream anymore.  

 

When Jaebum shows up for case briefing at 8 AM the next morning, nobody says a word. Jinyoung stares at him for a while before saying good morning, absolutely sure he’s feeling anything but good; the entire CIA team looks at him with a hint of fear, as if afraid he’s going to jump and attack them. Mark is obviously trying to avoid looking at the general direction of Jaebum as the latter sits down in his usual spot right in front of him.

It’s obvious to Jaebum that Tuan by know definitely knows how badly he fucked things up yesterday. He can tell it by looking at the guy, who’s now shuffling through a bunch of documents; it’s obvious in the way Mark eventually tries his best to look at Jaebum like nothing has happened, but has enough shame to deem it difficult because of what he said.

People are all the same, Jaebum thinks, looking at Tuan’s swollen lip and a cut in his eyebrow – battle scars of their fight – they always feel the need to feel pity. When you pity someone, and it’s clear that Mark pities Jaebum, you feel the urge to be sad for them, to save and console them. And Jaebum needs none of that; he’s never been good at handling people feeling sorry for him, so he doesn’t feel like wasting his efforts to do that for Tuan.

“Your meeting with Wang,” Jinyoung carefully says. His voice cracks a little, as if he’s torn between wanting to say something to ease the tension and pretending everything’s fine. “It got rescheduled to Monday, unexpected change of Wang’s plans. His assistant sent an email saying that he personally cleared his schedules to meet you earlier. By the way, Yugyeom’s your personal assistant, keep this in mind if you get asked, all the communication with Wang and his people is handled by him.”

“How kind of him.” Mark sarcastically notes, when Jaebum doesn’t say anything. He just keeps sitting there like made out of wood, unbothered to feel anything. “That’s tomorrow, and we’re still not done with preparations.”

Jaebum ignores Mark’s words, opening his mouth for the first and the last time during the entire briefing, “Am I going alone?”

“No way in hell.” Jinyoung assures, and some sort of faint hope sparks up inside Jaebum, that maybe he won’t die alone there, if Wang sees through his cover. But Jaebum also knows that for some reason, the universe hates him so, so much. “Planning department assigned Mark to you, he’ll be going as your driver-slash-bodyguard. We figured that a successor of a powerful investment company should have at least one of them, and that’s a good way to assure you won’t be alone if things go south.”

Jaebum wants to sigh, but doesn’t make any sounds, just opens his laptop to go through all the material they’ve compiled about Jackson Wang. If he’s going to act like Wang’s fanboy inspired to learn fencing from him, he might as well know the entire biography by tomorrow.

Somewhere in between reading that Wang’s favorite color is black and that he’s going to appear in a new variety show, Jaebum falls asleep; Mark glances at him for a moment, while checking some Chinese database, then decides not to wake him up until they have to head to the training center.

It’s the last training session, thanks to the sudden changes in the schedule, and the instructor puts Mark and Jaebum in a pair again, completely oblivious to what happens whenever they spend more time around each other. It’s a part of training perhaps – learning how to put your personal emotions aside and work in a team if you want to stay alive. At least they call it so.

Jaebum doesn’t give a shit anymore, he doesn’t even change his clothes before a three hours long session – if Wang or anyone else decides to attack him, he won’t have time to change into sweatpants and a hoodie like Tuan does.

Mark doesn’t try hard at all today – his punches and kicks are rather weak, as if he wouldn’t want to hurt Jaebum and Jaebum only smiles at this, having his hypothesis confirmed. Pity is truly a dangerous thing.

It seems like Mark is about to say something, when Jaebum pulls him into a headlock ridiculously easily, wrapping his arm around the guy’s neck a little too tight. After Jaebum releases him though, he doesn’t say a thing.

That’s all Jaebum has wished for during the past few days, for Mark to finally shut up and stop taunting him, but now he doesn’t care anymore. He’s in his own bubble, separated from the outer world, much like he was in yesterday’s nightmare. He doesn’t even notice how those three hours pass by and the training instructor is patting his shoulder wishing him luck; he barely registers Yugyeom in the office telling he’ll send him a memo of things he needs to do before meeting Wang.

It’s already dark when Jaebum returns home, but the darkness inside his mind is darker anyway. And maybe if everyone had really cared as much as they tried to show pity for him, they wouldn’t have let him go on mission the next morning; they _should’ve seen._

But Jaebum has always been good at pretending to be okay, too good for his own sake.

Early morning news start seeping into Jaebum’s ears when he wakes up at 6 AM the next morning. Loud and strict voice of a news announcer is informing him about a few car accidents and street fights that happened last night; it’s kind of annoying, Jaebum thinks, but never turns it off, trying to zone out until 7, when Yugyeom’s to-do list requires him to be awake for the mission.

The said list is so ridiculous, only their mission itself could top it – but he has to comply, and that’s how Jaebum ends up in one of the high-end shops in Gangnam at 8 AM, picking up a brand new and definitely too expensive for him to feel comfortable suit. It fits perfectly though, he has to admit; Jinyoung somehow did a pretty good job at getting all the measurements right.

Because of that same list, at 9 AM Jaebum sits down on a chair in a hair salon, while a little too chatty hairdresser is cutting his hair and offering bizarre hair colors after which Jaebum would definitely get bald in a week.

But he has a certain image to live up to if he wants this mission to be successful, and everything he’s doing now is mere stage props he has to endure gathering; so Jaebum clenches his jaw like he always does and tries to politely smile while listening to gossip about some idol who’s a regular here sleeping with a manager and how wild fans would go if they knew.

Precisely at 10 AM, as he would’ve been checking the clock every second, Mark comes into the said salon. Jaebum must’ve skipped this part in everything Yugyeom wrote, probably due to the fact that his mind automatically ignores everything Tuan related, but Mark is supposed to pick him up from the salon. At least that’s what Jaebum hears the guy briefly explaining it to the receptionist after being questioned what he’s doing here if he doesn’t have an appointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have such a handsome driver, mister Im?” the hairdresser gushes, not looking at Jaebum’s hair anymore and holding a hair dryer in one place for a little too long. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she gasps, when Jaebum grabs his ear and hisses from the burning heat.

It’s hard enough for him to force out a smile and mumble, “It’s okay.” to her. It’s a lot harder for Jaebum to convince himself that Mark Tuan, who’s now sitting in the waiting area and sipping on a cup of coffee shouldn’t go to hell for this as well. Mark’s carefully reading something, Jaebum can see it in the mirror – it’s a birthday card, one of many ridiculous things NIS gives their employees or partners, Jaebum has exactly four of them too.

It must be Mark’s birthday today, but Jaebum is not planning on congratulating him, looking how the guy softly smiles at the greetings written by someone in the office and puts it into his suit pocket.

A few more minutes and Jaebum is good to go, but he stays in the chair for a while, looking at the mirror in front of himself and thinking how ridiculous he looks. It’s not _him_ , with that expensive ass suit on himself that makes him feel itchy and with now black instead of dark brown hair pushed back. The reflection in the mirror looks too foreign and Jaebum sighs, making the hairdresser anxious that he doesn’t like the result.

They all have been taught about it; that it’s normal for undercover agents to start feeling some sort of unfamiliarity with oneself after having to pretend being someone else for long periods. Jaebum was aware it could happen to him, but didn’t know it will arise so quickly and that he’ll feel so disgusted, that he’ll feel like an alien to himself.

“We have to go, mister Im.” Mark carefully says, perfectly into his role as Jaebum’s subordinate with a voice full of this strange politeness; something Jaebum has never heard from him.

It’s a nice autumn day when both of them finally step outside – a little on the warmer side as September has just kicked off; there’s not a cloud in the blue sky and it makes Jaebum somehow calmer. It’s his thing when he’s about to go on a mission – he’s never nervous until the last few minutes, and now he feels worries kicking in as he realizes that there’s nothing else left to do, but to go and meet Jackson Wang.

It’s a NIS’s car Mark’s driving, Jaebum is quick to recognize it when the guy wordlessly guides him to a parking lot – he’s seen and used those cars countless times. Bulletproof windows and tires, looking like it would cost a little more than an average building in the outskirts of the city, all that jazz – but other than the practical uses of it, Jaebum is never too fascinated by expensive stuff. Instead, he’s trying to come up with plans B and C, and maybe even D, if for some reason they fail today.

He doesn’t notice how he automatically turns to get into the front seat until Mark puts his hand on the door not allowing him to. Jaebum lifts his eyes at his new partner, about to tell to leave him alone, but Mark says, “Successors of rich families don’t sit in the front with drivers. Get in the back.”

His voice is clear of any emotions, giving simple instructions in English, and Jaebum has to admit it does make sense.

Tuan is a decent driver for someone who’s not really used to the way traffic works in Korea, Jaebum has to give him that; so he spends most of the ride watching how everything passes by in a blur through the car window. The ride isn’t short by any means, there’s some traffic here and there, and while they’re waiting for a green light to come up on one of the bridges, Mark leans over to hand Jaebum something. It’s a small microphone and a sound receiver.

“Most probably I won’t be able to go with you all the way to Wang’s office, so if I’m left behind the closed door, it’s going to be more useful than me trying to eavesdrop.” Mark explains and his words have a certain undertone of careful humor to it, as if to ease the uncomfortable situation. Jaebum, however, doesn’t bat an eyelash at this, just puts everything on himself.

“Do I get to bring a gun with me?” that’s all he asks.

“No, not this time.” Mark replies, focusing on the road again, as the cars in front of them finally start moving. “Planning department decided it’s better to go clean for the first meeting. If things do go south, it’s unlikely Wang will pull something you wouldn’t be able to handle without a gun, considering the meeting is in his office. And all the visitors are put through a security check, so you wouldn’t be able to hide a gun anyway.”

Jaebum mumbles, more to himself than to Mark, “I thought I’m the successor of Im Enterprises. If even _the_ Jackson Wang clears his schedule for me, I should be able to avoid things like security checks.”

“It’s not how Wang works, unfortunately.” It’s seems like Mark’s talkative today, seeing that he finally got some sound out of Jaebum’s lips, mistaking it for a cue that they’re more or less on decent terms with each other. “How do you feel?” He asks, and when Jaebum doesn’t answer he adds, this time in Korean, “Listen. I’m sorry for what happened the other day. I crossed a line, guys told me the full story after the training session ended. I admit I was acting like a total ass there, but we can’t work together as a team if you don’t talk to me.”

Mark barely manages to finish his sentence when Jaebum tells in the coldest voice he can possibly force out of himself, “I know there’s a spare gun under the passenger seat, so either you shut up, or I show up at Wang’s with a dead body.”

Mark’s expression hardens in mere moments, he gets just as cold as Jaebum, mumbling, “Well, not the greatest idea considering I’m driving and you’d probably get killed in a car accident if you shoot me now, but whatever you wish, _mister Im_.”

It’s quiet in the car after this exchange, except for Jaebum hearing his own rapid heartbeats beating somewhere against his skull, making it hurt in a sharp pain.

Of course he’s nervous, how else would he feel? It would be strange and a little messed up if he went to risk his life and wouldn’t be even a tiny bit afraid.

The rest of the ride passes by incredibly quickly, much to Jaebum dissatisfaction, and a few moments and short phone call later, Mark parks the car in the parking lot of Wang’s model agency.  “One more thing.” he says in English again, before getting off and before their little show starts, but his voice doesn’t return to its usual warmth. “I know it all sucks and whatever, but for the sake of safety try to be a little more… morally flexible.”

Jaebum almost starts laughing. He’s going there to lure Wang into his bedroom to get information about drug deals and human trafficking – if that’s not a sign of his moral flexibility, then Jaebum isn’t quite sure what is.

They don’t say anything to each other after that; Mark gets off and opens the car door for Jaebum without really looking at him. Jaebum takes a deep breath telling himself to get his shit together. _Leave your personal emotions and problems out of your tasks_ – that’s what he’s always said to his colleagues and newbies in the field, but today he finds it hard to follow his own rules.

_How can you possibly do that when your personal emotions and problems are directly related to your tasks?_

Jaebum’s doing a half-decent job at looking like one of those cocky new CEOs though, when a security guard in front of the building asks who earth is he and what does he want. He lets Mark do most of the talking, assuming that people in his position, even if the position is fake, wouldn’t bother talking with staff.

He even lets out an incredibly believable annoyed scoff when the said security guard gets him and Mark searched from potentially dangerous things, only glaring in return when the man not so silently mumbles, ‘All rich people are trash.” after finally letting them in and telling that Wang’s assistant will guide them further once they reach the 7th floor of the building.

It’s awkward to be in such proximity with Mark in the elevator, Jaebum thinks, feeling how the guy’s perfume find its way to his nostrils; but he’s soon distracted by the elevator stopping in various floors and people rushing in and out, mostly not even noticing two people who don’t belong here.

Jaebum assumes rich or famous visitors and their bodyguards isn’t a shocking thing here, but he uses it to his advantage, trying to remember every tiny detail he notices – for example, how a lot of people here speak Chinese among themselves instead of Korean, or how two of them in the 5th floor decide to return from a lunch break later, because _“Jackson won’t really mind”_ , indicating that Wang probably isn’t an extremely strict employer.

“You must be Im Jaebum, right?” Jaebum can swear he hears the voice before the elevator’s doors fully open in the 7th floor. These words are said indecently loudly for an office worker who’s probably sacrificing his lunch time to take care of Wang’s guests. Jaebum is also almost taken aback seeing a hand casually reached out for him to shake. “I’m Choi Youngjae, Jackson’s assistant. I believe I’ve exchanged emails with Yugyeom, one of yours?”

Jaebum has to try his best to control his face so that it wouldn’t scrunch into a suspicious frown. He remembers the name from briefings – but they all thought Choi Youngjae is a co-owner of this place, not a mere assistant. Maybe it’s a mistake of theirs again, or maybe it’s an entire yet invisible scheme they have to solve; or perhaps those guys just share the same name – Jaebum doesn’t know, but he’s sure that he’s going to learn it sooner or later, if he doesn’t fuck up today.

“I…” he mumbles, and immediately feels Mark’s not so subtle punch in his back to get himself together, as the guy stands right behind Jaebum. “Yes, I believe you did.”

Youngjae’s face brightens up even more at the confirmation “Great. Jackson is really looking forward to meet you, and—“ His stare shifts to Mark and his expression drops a little. Not obviously, but it’s there. “And I’m afraid he will need to wait here. Jackson isn’t really a fan of people thinking they need bodyguards when they’re with him.”

“But—“ Jaebum wants to say something, trying to sound strict even, but Youngjae quickly cuts him off.

“That’s a rule, I’m sorry.” The guy says and Jaebum can see through his friendly wide smile, it hides a little bit of annoyance and strictness. “Can I offer you coffee or tea?” Youngjae asks, politely putting his arm on Jaebum’s back as if to forcibly separate from his companion and guide him to Wang’s office at the end of the corridor.

“No, thank you.”

Jaebum can see Mark sitting down on one of the chairs in the corridor with his hands in his suit pockets, but he doesn’t have much time to stare as Youngjae is chattering about something while they’re going to meet Jackson. He doesn’t even have time to properly look around, so far noticing only monochrome colors and Wang’s name written on the door of his office in neat, professional looking font.

Youngjae knocks a few times before going in, and honestly, Jaebum didn’t have any prior expectations before meeting Jackson Wang, a potentially dangerous criminal; but now when he’s finally standing in the office and faintly hears Wang greeting him, Jaebum thinks he wouldn’t have expected _this_ anyway.

Jackson Wang looks attractive on TV and in photos, sure, every celebrity does – but he’s also incredibly good looking in person as he’s shaking Jaebum’s hand with a firm handshake. He’s wearing a simple dark blue sweater and a pair of black jeans, and Jaebum can see why people would line in front of his bedroom; he really does, but that doesn’t make him want to become one of those people at all. There’s something puppy-like about the way Jackson smiles, and how weirdly _simple_ he looks that weirds Jaebum out, though.

He gets seated in front of Jackson’s working desk it seems, which is almost all covered in papers he needs to review and sign, and only when Youngjae is dismissed, Jackson sits down in front of Jaebum, wordlessly scanning him with his dark brown eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Im Jaebum.” He finally says, without any formalities, clearly stating that his office – his rules, but he doesn’t stop smiling and Jaebum doesn’t know what to make of it. “I’m sorry our meeting time got changed so suddenly, but there were some important things I have to take care of on Wednesday.”

“It’s okay.” Jaebum assures him, feeling uncomfortable how Jackson’s eyes stop focusing on his face and slide somewhere down to his collarbones and chest. “I was so looking forward to meet you, I didn’t mind this change in plans.”

Jaebum hates how sweet his voice sounds, like a puppy in a shelter drooling at his future owner; but Jackson smiles, so here goes nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr jaebum goes on a mission when he's hella unfit mentally for this. anticipate a /great/ outcome 
> 
> oof. someone save these boys tbh, from here it will probably gonna be only a straight way down now that jackson's introduced, and it's now mark who's petty and offended. but anyway, i hope you liked the chapter, and as always, i love reading your thoughts, so pls don't hesitate to leave a comment!


	4. Chapter 4

The silence that follows after Jackson explains the meeting’s date had to be changed because he unexpectedly has to be in Ansan on Wednesday evening somehow feels scary to Jaebum, no matter how many times he tells himself to get his shit together. It’s a sticky silence, the kind that covers them like a suffocating plastic wrap, leaving Jaebum breathless and without an opportunity to escape.

Sure, it’s not the first time Jaebum’s on a mission; this time, however, the stakes are too high, and knowing this doesn’t make him any calmer.

After introductions Wang doesn’t say anything anymore – maybe it’s a weird tactic to intimidate the man in front of him, a way to show who’s the boss here and whose rules are meant to be followed; or maybe it’s just a little awkward for two strangers to start talking right off the bat – it can be any of these options, it can be neither of them too, but Jaebum knows that Jackson is outgoing and never shy in front of strangers – NIS has some information on him, now neatly put in folders and stacked on Jaebum’s work desk back in the headquarters; so Wang’s silence can mean only so many things.

There’s one more thing Jaebum is a little bit afraid of though, and he hates it even more than the piercing, damp silence surrounding them – it’s the way Wang still keeps smiling at him, that wide and seemingly warm smile.

There’s something incredibly unsettling about it as Jackson’s brown eyes are tracing Jaebum’s upper body; something that makes the guy feel like he’s pricked by needles whenever lip corners of Wang’s tug up like he would be satisfied with what he sees. His eyes are rather careful though – slowly evaluating every inch, looking at Jaebum with some kind of strange admiration.

Nothing helps to fight the disgust burning Jaebum’s insides and rising up to his throat, not even constant reminders that it’s only a mission – dangerous, fucked up, twisted, yes; but still _work_ nevertheless.

Jaebum has always been good at doing his job, this time is not an exception.

Jackson is interested, to say the least – Jaebum can see it in the way Jackson smirks to himself like he would be thinking about something pleasant; in the way he finally focuses back on Jaebum’s face like trying to memorize every bit of it, from Jaebum’s lip corners, which automatically albeit awkwardly lift up to fake a light smile, to the twin moles just a bit under his left eyebrow. It’s obvious in the way Wang’s eyes soon return to his lips and Jaebum is aware of what might have him so interested.

To him, Jaebum is a new _thing_ – an unknown, yet unexplored land, a mystery. Of course, Jaebum isn’t particularly bad looking, what eases this process a little, but Jackson is used to seeing handsome men. It’s boring, being good looking is boring – Jackson likes a good intrigue instead, a nice dash of thrill that would keep him on his tippy toes as he’s reaching for something, or rather, _someone_. And that’s what Jaebum is now – an exciting puzzle, because he doesn’t seem to be throwing himself on Wang immediately; a thrilling one, even if that puzzle has to take disguised deep breaths, trying not to show how tense he is.

It takes a few more excruciatingly slow moments before Jackson finally makes a move of some sorts. That move is propping his head on his left arm looking a little bored, but obviously showing off an indecently expensive new watch on his wrist; maybe it’s one more trick to test Jaebum in some weird, twisted way, and the latter isn’t sure how to react, trying to force his mind to focus and adjust itself to the unpredictable flow of events – however, it’s quite hard when he knows that every word he says or doesn’t say might cost a life to someone in one way or another.

“So what brings you to this agency, Im Jaebum?” Jackson suddenly asks, voice clear and quite loudly resonating through the room; it makes Jaebum flinch before he fully snaps back into reality, and Wang has to repeat his question one more time with his right eyebrow slightly raised as if he couldn’t believe a CEO of an investment company can be so absentminded. “What brings you here?”

“I—“ Jaebum hates how his voice cracks, but then he decides it’s not necessarily a bad thing – if it comes off as him getting flustered in front of Wang, even better. Jackson loves to have power over people, he’s always excited to see how he can impact them. “I saw you… I saw one of your fencing matches on TV a while back and—“

Jackson starts laughing, interrupting this pathetic stuttering; the laughter is even louder than his speaking voice, but unlike in his words, there’s a tinge of coldness.

“And you decided you want to learn fencing from me?” he says those words like he’d be having these kind of conversations several times a day – and Jaebum wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Wang goes through messy papers on his desk searching for the right one, which is buried under a pile of documents Jaebum is unfortunately unable to read – they’re all written in Chinese. At first, he’s not exactly sure what Jackson is quickly skimming through, but then Jaebum manages to spot his own name on one of the papers and some official looking stamps, so he figures it must be the recommendation letters from National Fencing Federation someone from NIS forged or bought.

“Outstanding passion, genuine interest, huge potential despite his age,” Wang seems to be having a great time reading this out loud. “Oh my, isn’t everyone all about fencing these days. When I was a teen, we had to beg the Federation to fund our trips to tournaments, and now they’re the ones constantly begging me to train people. Interesting how life works, isn’t it? You could almost say karma is a bitch.”

There’s a certain aggressive bitterness in Jackson’s voice when he’s talking about the Federation, like he’d be holding grudges or hiding his disappointment, so Jaebum notes to himself to find out what’s that all about.

“I’m sure it’s because they know how respected and experienced you are in the field.” Jaebum decides it’s a good time to get on his good side. However, as soon as he opens his mouth it comes off as an incredibly awkward and unnatural nonsense, as if he’d be reading from a prompter. Wang puts the papers down, darting his stare back at Jaebum.

He has never been good at sucking up to people.

Tuan apparently shares the same sentiment about his acting being too transparent and not convincing enough, because Jaebum can hear him cringing in his ear-in, the same one he got earlier in the car. Due to all the overwhelming emotions though, Jaebum has completely forgotten about the device in his ear and that Mark is listening to everything that’s going on in this room – so it’s not really a surprise that he jumps from his seat a little terrified about hearing voices.

Wang’s eyebrows furrow at Jaebum’s apologetic smile and an explanation about how he thought there’s a spider on his leg – luckily, he doesn’t seem overly suspicious. Perhaps he finds Jaebum only a little bit weird or quirky, now looking at him how one would look at quite adorable, but incredibly stupid nevertheless, child. 

Jaebum thinks that he might punch Tuan in the face again sooner than he thought he would.

Wang’s expression soon changes, however, as if someone would’ve snapped their fingers at this scene – his eyes darken all of a sudden and there’s this strange, frightening and cold serenity oozing from his face. There’s nothing puppy-like about the way he looks at Jaebum this time, if anything, it makes the latter want to step back, run away and never return, because his guts are yelling only one thing at him.

_Danger, danger, danger._

“Do you want to know what I think about this recommendation?” Jackson asks, almost matter-of-factly, and it’s obvious something went south faster than anyone in NIS expected it to.

Jaebum knows something is very, very wrong, he can feel it with every inch of his body, packed into this fancy suit – call it the agent’s intuition or whatever, but he just _knows_ they’re about to take a huge detour from the original idea of how this meeting is supposed to go. Jaebum can hear his breath hitching almost immediately when Jackson crumples his recommendation letter up into a paper ball and lightly, even mockingly gracefully, throws it across his office. Jaebum thinks he’s never heard paper hitting a wall this loud – the sound cuts right into his skin, creating panic ripples that wash all over the agent’s body, warning about the possibility to drown.

_He fucked up, Wang wouldn’t be reacting like that if everything was okay; he must’ve seen through Jaebum’s cover, something must’ve given him away—_

Jackson interrupts his racing thoughts by standing up from his chair, walking up to the guy and leaning against the work desk with his hands crossed on his chest, now only a few centimeters away from Jaebum.

Jaebum’s shirt and suit jacket start to seem too tight around his chest all of a sudden, and the tie he’s wearing feels like it’s about to suffocate him. He prays that Tuan, if he likes to listen and comment on shit so much, will understand he needs to do something – barge in to save the day, or at least tell him that screw the mission, punch Wang so that he wouldn’t stand up for a while and _run_ ; but there’s only silence in the ear-in now, and Jaebum tightly closes his eyes shut when Jackson reaches his arm out.

He has to clench his jaw in order not to let out a gasp at the unexpected contact, but Wang’s hand is quite warm and soft, as he’s slowly stroking Jaebum’s cheek and jawline, making the guy shiver both in disgust and fear at the same time. And yet Jaebum knows he has to force himself to act like he’s not about to throw up when Wang’s thumb wanders to his lips, brushing against them a little roughly.

“It’s kind of cute, how ridiculously bad you are at lying.”

His voice doesn’t sound mad or aggressive though, rather amused, but Jaebum fails to catch it because of his own rapid heartbeats, echoing in his ears, as he trying to come up with something to deny, ask Jackson what he’s talking about; but it’s hard to open his mouth when Jackson’s thumb is still on his lips, forbidding him to.

“You can get this kind of recommendation from the Federation for less than five hundred thousand won, the old man Hong isn’t exactly stubborn and picky when it comes to money and business partners. He probably even has a custom template so that he would need to only sign it.” Jackson says slowly, almost whispering into Jaebum’s ear and making the guy shiver again. He’s probably referring to the head of that stupid Federation, Jaebum doesn’t know, _he doesn’t care, he’s just trying to think of a way to control the damned situation_. “I can tell you exactly why you’re here, if you’re so unwilling to talk yourself.”

Jaebum fights the urge to close his eyes, feeling the grip of Jackson’s fingers tightening on his jaw, but what’s said afterwards catches him off guard completely.

“You don’t give a shit about fencing, do you? You just want to get into my bed.” Jackson finally moves his hand from the guy’s face after a soft, mocking poke at his nose. Usually that would make Jaebum furious, but now it feels ridiculously relieving, like his death sentence would’ve gotten cancelled all of a sudden. “Bold, but nothing unconventional.”

Jaebum can feel a slight lightheadedness kicking into his head and making everything around a little fuzzy, now that he knows Jackson doesn’t see through him _completely_. The room somehow looks brighter and the colors are more vibrant around him, like someone would’ve turned the lights back on; Jaebum even manages to smile a little and say, “Well, I guess you saw right through me.”

He has no idea how on earth he has it in himself joke about this, when his legs feel like made out of cotton wool or jelly – Jaebum is absolutely sure it wouldn’t hold his weight if he stood up – but he notices how Wang’s lip corners twitch in an attempt to hide a satisfied smile, both at the guess being “correct” and at Jaebum, basically a mess in front of him.

“So what are we going to do about this, mister Im?” Jackson asks, all formal again, looking Jaebum right in the eyes. The latter thinks he finally understood what kind of course is suitable for a person like Jackson Wang.

Wang needs a hobby where he could show his power – a new prey to hunt, if you will; the ones that come to him are ready to drop dead under his feet and he’s not interested in that. He’s always been a hard worker, you can’t take it from him, but for that, he needs to remain interested, to try and catch the uncatchable. A classic push and pull before Wang gets what he wants; and it’s obvious how his eyes spark up when Jaebum finally drops all the stuttering and nervous fidgeting, while slightly, almost barely visibly licking his lips.

“That’s up to you to decide.” Jaebum answers. His voice is a little lower now, a little slower – all this while staring right back at Jackson, as if admitting he’s up for the chase, for an ambitious game. “We’re both businessmen, I’m sure we will come to an… agreement of some sorts.”

It’s at those words Wang finally catches the bait, swallows it like a fish desperate for food, fully sure Jaebum is here only to fuck – and looking at the bright side, it’s a good thing. They can now avoid this unnecessary fencing nonsense, saving some time – and both CIA and NIS definitely need as much time as possible. The six months they have will pass by in a blur, Jaebum is sure about that.

“That’s right, we’re both businessmen.” Jackson agrees, returning back to his seat now that everything is more or less clear to him. “So I’m sure you know that nothing in this world comes for free. If you ask, you have to give. If you want to have, you have to pay. Are you sure you have something to give me?”

Jaebum lightly smiles, putting his hand on the desk, fingers slightly brushing against Wang’s – just a little in order to show interest, but not enough for him to come off as easy. “Listen, Jackson. I’m sure we’re both aware of what I can offer to you and what you can offer to me in return.” Truth is, Jaebum has no fucking idea what he’s talking about, but from the way Jackson’s eyes sparkle with excitement, he knows he’s knocking at the right door. “You know how these things work.”

“You _do_ know that if there was someone else in this chair in front of you, you most probably would get slapped and blacklisted by now, don’t you?” Wang replies.

Jaebum would say that in this scenario he’d punch them back and Jackson is avoiding this destiny only because there’s a certain information he has to get from him; but he only continues smiling as he loosens his tie a little, absolutely aware Jackson is almost eating him with his eyes.

“If there was someone else in this chair, I wouldn’t even be here.” He softly says, quickly moving his hand away when Jackson moves in his seat. A boring, cheesy push and pull, but Jackson’s old-fashioned in some way, so it works. “Being such a busy person must be exhausting, so I’m sure you could use some company. That’s what I’m offering to you.”

“But why?” Wang asks, looking like he genuinely doesn’t understand and leaving Jaebum wondering whether this lack of confidence is fake to get more compliments or not. “Why out of all rich people in the city, you want to keep company specifically for me? Aren’t there enough fellow investors out there?”

“It’s not about being rich.” Jaebum says, leaning back. “I have my own money my father left to me, god bless his soul. I’m just interested in you, Jackson Wang.” It’s not even a lie at this point.

Jackson tilts his head a little, “I think we—“

His words get interrupted by a short, but firm knock on the door, and before Jackson can even open his mouth to send to hell whoever is about to come in, both his and Jaebum’s jaws drop open in surprise when Youngjae comes in, dragging Mark together by the latter’s elbow and looking mad furious.

“What’s going on here?” Jackson asks, the sweet and a little sultry intonation gone from his voice it like would’ve simply dissolved into the air. Jaebum tries to look annoyed for the sake of acting, but he’s just as unsure.

“Are you going to tell yourself or will I need to?” Youngjae asks Mark and tightens his grip on his elbow, as the guy tries to free himself. Tuan curses at him in English in response, saying something Youngjae clearly doesn’t understand. “I left for lunch and when I got back just a few minutes ago, I saw him snooping around and trying to eavesdrop.”

If Jaebum could, he’d probably plant his head into a wall now, because Mark undoubtedly fucked everything up; everything that he was put on a rollercoaster to create – he notices how Jackson’s shoulder’s tense up and how the warmth slowly seeps out of his eyes when he turns to Jaebum.

“Mister Im, care to explain?”

“He’s my driver and bodyguard.” Jaebum answers trying not to look at the American, because he feels like he’s about to kill him on the spot. “He tends to overdo it sometimes, I sincerely apologize. Tuan, wait for me in the car, we’ll talk about this later.”

“I apologize.” Mark mumbles, not even bothering to look like he’s apologizing before bowing to them and turning to leave. Youngjae follows, to make sure this idiot is really out of the building for good.

“This is embarrassing.” Jaebum says when he and Jackson are all alone again, but the atmosphere is obviously too different from what it was before – there’s mistrust in Jackson’s eyes. “I told my family I don’t really need a bodyguard, but my mother seems to disagree, that’s why I got him. Quite a troublemaker.”

Jackson says only a curt, “You should pick your staff better, mister Im. I’m not really into realizing that people for some reason think they need bodyguards while meeting me. It makes me feel like you think I’m dangerous.”

“Are you?” Jaebum’s question doesn’t mean anything, he’s simply trying to lull Jackson back into the sweetness and warmth they had a few moments before, and tremendously failing – Jackson’s not stupid, not with this.

“I’d like to believe I’m not.”

Jaebum doesn’t know what to say. It’s a dead end of their meeting thanks to Tuan, so now the only obvious solution he can come up with is that he needs to leave and rethink his course of actions – maybe wait a week or two before _accidentally_ bumping into Wang during some event or something. Sitting here is pretty useless now.

“I have another meeting scheduled, so unfortunately I have to leave.” he says, standing up and fixing his tie. Jackson doesn’t say anything even when Jaebum puts his fake business card on the desk, adding, “If you ever think about the offer we were discussing before this… interruption, or just feel lonely one day, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Jackson takes the card, sparing a quick glimpse at it before returning to a pile of documents he should be working on, and Jaebum has to admit that he lost this one. They truly fucked up.

However, when he slightly bows in goodbye and reaches the door, so desperate to finally get out of this place to take a breath of fresh air, Jackson stops him. “Mister Im?”

“Yes?” Jaebum turns around, one hand still on the door handle.

“What did you say your bodyguard’s last name is?”

Jaebum frowns. “Tuan, but why are you asking?”

Jackson only slightly smiles, shaking his head, and Jaebum finally leaves, thinking how strange the last seconds of this meeting were.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Jaebum doesn’t hesitate to slam Mark into the same NIS car they used to come here – only after making sure that this part of Wang’s parking lot doesn’t have any security cameras; that’s why Mark parked the car here in the first place. “Are you out of your mind?”

He found Mark in the parking lot nervously walking back and forth, worries written all over his face. Jaebum thinks it’s unusual to see the American’s rather calm behavior turning into this, but then he decides it serves Tuan well – he ruined the entire mission they’ve been planning for the past week in the best case scenario, and almost got them killed in the worst.

Tuan doesn’t push Jaebum away from himself, perhaps he’s aware that this time he deserves it, and should be thankful that Jaebum doesn’t punch him, because god sees, he’d really like to. All that escapes Mark’s lips is, “I was worried.”

Jaebum starts laughing, but it’s not genuine – it’s full of anger and bitterness, pent up during the last few days. “You have got to be kidding me. First you laugh into my ear-in and make me explain I had a damn _spider_ on my leg, and later you decide to put a fucking cherry on top of it by getting caught eavesdropping. Is this your first time on a mission? Why are you acting like a fucking newbie for god’s sake, we could’ve died there if Wang was at least a little crazier than he is.”

“Now it’s you who’s acting like a rookie by making a scene in public before making sure that no one’s listening.” Mark tells, calmly taking Jaebum by his wrists and removing him from himself with the same expression like he’d be doing a chore he hates. “Your microphone stopped working halfway the conversation with Wang, so I had to go check if it was something serious. Unfortunately, I walked right into that Youngjae guy.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaebum tells, a little tiredly, because once all the adrenaline and anxiety starts wearing off, all he feels is this disgusting feeling of being dirty for some reason; and he’s really, really sleepy, as if his mind would be shutting down to help him cope with everything that’s happening around. “It was working just fine when you decided to giggle into my ear like a five year old.”

Tuan puts his hands under Jaebum’s suit jacket without any questions or warnings, so Jaebum’s natural reaction is to jump back ready to fight again; however, Mark doesn’t seem like he’s up for an argument, looking weirdly worn out himself, so he simply takes the microphone and sound receiver from the back on Jaebum’s shirt, ripping out the ear-in to which it is connected to it from Jaebum’s ear rather roughly, what makes the latter hiss.

“Here.” Mark shows it to him and Jaebum has to admit another loss today. There’s a dent in one for the wires, not really a deep one, but probably enough to cut off the transmission, as it’s not a very powerful device to begin with. NIS didn’t feel like Jaebum needs something incredibly powerful for the first meeting.

“Oh.” Jaebum mumbles, but his anger doesn’t really disappear, still lingering in the air and directed at Tuan’s entire existence.

“Stop attacking people who care about whether you’re alive or not. It’s kind of difficult to deal with you that way.” Mark mumbles back, turning to get into the car they’re both standing next to, and Jaebum looks at him surprised – he never thought it’s somehow important for Tuan whether he’s alive or not.

The car ride back doesn’t bring them any more closure, asides Mark asking if Jaebum needs to go back to the headquarters. The latter says no, because there’s a briefing scheduled for 9 AM tomorrow and he doesn’t have anything extremely urgent he needs to share after this whole fiasco. And even if he would have something, now he’s completely responsible for how things will be going and how he’s leading both NIS and CIA teams on Wang’s case – NIS trusted him to know his shit without any supervision from higher-ups.

But there’s always someone to laugh at this plans – and this time it’s Jinyoung, apparently blasting his phone with calls. Jaebum has missed quite a few of them it seems, when he finally checks his call logs in his phone, which he put on silent mode before meeting Wang; there are six calls missing and the seventh is incoming, so Jaebum is sure it’s something really urgent.

“What’s up?” he asks before Jinyoung can say a thing. Mark lifts his eyes from the road to the rearview mirror to see why Jaebum is speaking all of a sudden.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jinyoung basically yells into his ear without any greetings or introductions, and Jaebum is very confused to say the least. He wants to ask what on earth is the younger guy talking about, but doesn’t make it on time before Jinyoung hisses, “Get your stupid ass to the headquarters, now.”

“But—“

“I swear to god, Im Jaebum, if you’re not in my office in thirty minutes, you’re dead.” That’s all Jinyoung says before dropping the call.

Apparently, he yells that out loudly enough, because Mark calmly concludes, “So I guess I should drop you off at the headquarters after all.”

Jaebum nods, but he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s going on no matter how hard he thinks. And he’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t turn the sound of his phone back on; if he did, he would’ve noticed a message from an unknown number, which is undoubtedly none other than Wang’s.

_How about a dinner on Friday to discuss your offer somewhere where we wouldn’t be interrupted?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when will i write a chapter where markbum aren't throwing their hands at each in one way or another? probably never.  
> university got me dead mostly, jinyoung will get jaebum dead too apparently; i hope you still like this mess of a fanfic and this chapter as well. comments are always welcomed, let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

“Team leader Park is waiting for you in his office, Agent Im.”

Jaebum frowns at a young woman, who is sitting in a newly made reception in front of Jinyoung’s new office – his head can’t even wrap itself around the amount of _new_ s surrounding his colleague – when Mark drops him off at the headquarters. He didn’t even know Jinyoung has a secretary or whatever the girl is, but then Jaebum figures someone must take care of the paperwork now that he’s back to his regular position in NIS.

He nods at her, feeling some sort of pity – the fact that she knows who Jaebum is without the latter having ever seen her can only mean so much. Jinyoung most probably forced her to memorize names and faces of every employee in the organization before letting her to even touch the chair she’s sitting on.

Jaebum doesn’t knock at Jinyoung’s office door, he doesn’t feel the need to; the younger agent is working on something, left hand tapping the keyboard of his laptop almost at the same speed as Yugyeom would, and the right one quickly writing something down on yellow post-its after sparing quick glances at the screen. The agent doesn’t greet Jaebum when he comes in, he doesn’t even move his head, but Jaebum shrugs it off, taking a chair to sit in front of the guy.

Before coming here, sure, Jaebum has questioned himself why would Jinyoung be so furious and why it’s such an urgent thing – however, he couldn’t find the answer no matter how hard he tried. So instead of uselessly playing the guessing game, Jaebum is now staring at the dark mop of Jinyoung’s hair, as he’s still leaning into his laptop looking at some databases. All that without even acknowledging the man in front of himself, of course, and eventually Jaebum understands where this is going.

Jinyoung has always been like that. It’s a weird habit, a strange tactic of intimidation – when he’s mad, he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t let out a _sound_ , twistedly enjoying the punishing silence and another person having an inner turmoil about not even knowing what it is all about. It’s quite useful sometimes, really – Jaebum has tried it with a few subordinates of his and the result was hilarious, seeing them all red and sweaty, not knowing what they’re being scolded for, hence spilling all the sins they’ve ever committed.

Exactly here comes a weak point of this, though – Jaebum is aware of it and how it works, so Jinyoung’s silence doesn’t bother him at all. They sit in this silence for five, ten, twenty minutes, stubbornly waiting for one of them to finally crack, but none of them does. Jinyoung puts last signatures on blanks he needs to sign for department’s meeting next week, puts his pen down and only then takes a look at Jaebum.

He looks like he just escaped hell, Jinyoung decides – Jaebum’s hair is messy, tie hanging on his neck like it was forgotten to be properly tied, and his face is so, so pale like he’d be sick. However, Jinyoung doesn’t have it in himself to feel pity, not after this morning. Whatever Jaebum is dealing with now – he fully deserves and is responsible for.

“So why am I here?” Jaebum finally breaks the silence with a challenging undertone in his voice. They’re friends, of course, a little closer than Jaebum has ever been to most of his colleagues; but sometimes Jinyoung tends to be a pain in the ass, and today, apparently, is the day when he’s being exactly that.

Jinyoung doesn’t answer at first, only staring at his friend, and Jaebum can feel how poisonous that stare is – so he really must be in deep shit, frankly speaking, because he’s never seen Jinyoung looking at him like that ever before. The younger guy opens one of the drawers of his work desk just as wordlessly and takes out two things – Jaebum’s agent ID that was suspended a few months ago and his gun, the same one that was confiscated on the same occasion.

“If you wanted to give this all back to me, you could’ve just waited till tomorrow’s briefing.” Jaebum notes.

Jinyoung pushes his ID back to Jaebum with such force, it looks like it takes his entire willpower not to throw it at the guy’s face, but he doesn’t give back Jaebum’s gun, and only when Jinyoung finally opens his mouth, Jaebum understands.

“Annual health checks are scheduled to take place soon. Could you please remind your team members to check their emails, so they would find their assigned check-up time, team leader Im? Since you apparently don’t need one anymore this year, you could at least be useful like that.”

So Jinyoung caught up. _Fuck._

“Will do.” Jaebum still tries to play it cool, but he feels nervousness slowly returning, making him bite his cheek. If Jinyoung opens his mouth, not only Jaebum himself will get fired and sued for forging documents and violating probably a few hundreds of NIS rules – Yugyeom will too, because he helped Jaebum to do this after days of constant begging and threatening.

“Do you have any clue,” Jinyoung hisses, “What could’ve happened if the Section chief hadn’t decided to dump the medical evaluations on my shoulders because I’m his junior now? Do you even understand what you did?”

“I—” Jaebum doesn’t know what to say. He never thought his “genius” plan will ever be shattered like that, he never thought of a lie to cover it up.

“I don’t care about you forging documents, I really couldn’t give less shit, because we could cover this up somehow.” Jinyoung interrupts. “But you’re putting in danger everyone around you, you’re putting in danger this entire mission, you’re putting _yourself_ in danger. Do you think you’re really that fit to carry this out? No, really – I’d like to hear what actually _do_ you think, because I have no clue what did you expect pulling this shit.”

“I’m not putting anyone in danger.”

Jinyoung sighs like he’d be fighting an urge to slap Jaebum. “ _Wake up_. Do you really not realize that after we fucked up that mission in Shilla you’re not functioning properly?” Jaebum face goes blank at the name. “Do you really think you’re capable of winning over Wang, when you flinch at every louder sound and look like you’re going to have a panic attack whenever you need to go somewhere without a gun?”

Jaebum tries to argue that it’s not like that at all, but all it takes to refute his claim is for Jinyoung to slam his hand into the desk; Jaebum flinches and almost jumps from his seat – something he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at a year, two years ago.

“You need help, Jaebum.” Jinyoung tries again, this time trying not to sound angry, but he just can’t anymore. “Nobody knows when you’re going to crumble under all that, and what will happen then?”

“I’m not going to crumble—”

“You said the same shit when the Section chief asked you if you can carry out a mission half a year ago. Do I need to remind how it ended and why you got suspended?”

“It was because I was trying to do my job.”

“It’s because you killed _five people_ during that mission. We could’ve taken them into interrogation alive, they were armed with nothing but knives, for god’s sake. You’re lucky that they were actually proven guilty, because you would’ve had five innocent dead bodies, and no one could’ve helped you. And now I’m responsible for all this shit, because you were working in _my_ department when you decided to officially diagnose yourself with being fine.”

Jaebum tilts his head. “Huh. So that’s what’s up.”

“What?”

“You don’t really care about this. You’re only worried that you’re going to get in trouble too.” Jaebum concludes and Jinyoung looks at him like he’s out of his mind. “Listen up. Mind your own business. I know what I’m doing, and I’m going to get out of this mess on my own.”

“Do you really?” Jinyoung helplessly asks. “Do you even understand what’s happening around you? You didn’t even care that it was Tuan’s first field mission.” Suddenly he realizes. “Did you even _know_ that? Or did you not even bother to check who are you working with?”

Jaebum didn’t.

“What do you mean it’s his first field mission? He’s the head of their entire division.” He mumbles and Jinyoung sighs, torn between being spitefully happy about his point being proven right yet again and feeling sad about his friend being messed up like that.

“Yes, he’s the head. But he works in the office – he’s a planner. He plans out their missions before any of the agents are sent out, and he’s good at it, hell, he’s _very_ good at it. It was the first time he was sent out of the office as a field agent, because CIA sent too little people for him to be able to stay away from the action, and I suspect you gave him a real nice experience.”

It only sparks more anger in Jaebum, even though he knows how scary it must’ve been for Tuan. People with strong thinking skills were always the ones the most afraid during their missions. “I’m not responsible for warm greetings and pats on the shoulder. He got himself into this, I’m just doing my work. I’m not a babysitter, and if his smart ass is incapable of being an agent, then he should think about other career paths.”

“Fine.” Jinyoung says, voice sharp. “Fine. Go ahead, do whatever you want, apparently, you’re the only one deciding things here. Go get yourself killed if you want, because at this point, this is where this mission is taking you.”

Jaebum laughs, but his laughter is full of bitterness and contempt. “Do you think it’s that easy? Sucking up to Wang, pretending I want to fuck him, all that – especially when you all glued Tuan to me to babysit. You’re all talking like it’s so fucking easy, to stop thinking about that day in Shilla and what would’ve happened if Bambam hadn’t tried to protect me. About the fact that I’m responsible for his death, because he wasn’t even supposed to be there. If I wasn’t at work, and I’m not talking about sorting documents out, I would go insane after three days, tops. Do you think it’s fun to live like that?” Jaebum hates that he has to stop talking at some point, because he doesn’t want to show his voice going hysterically higher. 

For a second it seems like Jinyoung is stunned to the point he doesn’t know what to say; Jaebum has never talked about that day unless it was absolutely necessary for the first week as they had to write countless papers on what exactly happened. After that, the official version was that Jaebum is okay – he’s a professional NIS agent after all, he knows that deaths in this field are inevitable.

Reality, however, was way darker than they could’ve imagined.

“It’s been more than a year.” Jinyoung says, but Jaebum sees only the pity in his eyes, and it makes him sick. “There’s nothing you can do about it, move on.”

“You sure have moved on.” Jaebum bitterly scoffs and they return to the starting point of this conversation – both angry and confused. “A promotion is a helpful medicine to soothe wounds, it seems.”

“You know very well that I wasn’t promoted because of Bambam’s death.” Jinyoung hisses back. “It was because that I actually behaved like a normal human being. Maybe if you and Bambam followed the protocol that day, you also would’ve—”

He doesn’t make it on time to finish the sentence before Jaebum reaches out his hands and grabs Jinyoung by the collar of his shirt like he’s about to drag his colleague out of his seat. “Don’t you fucking dare to talk like it was his own fault for not following the guidelines, because you know it wasn’t.”

Probably it would’ve turned into a full-blown fight, because Jinyoung wouldn’t have hesitated either – neither of them are really known for having the calmest personalities when they feel they’re being wronged – but it gets interrupted by one of Yugyeom’s colleagues in the IT department, Younghyun.

“I brought the monthly reports you asked for, but I see it’s not the right time.” Younghyun calmly tells, like he wouldn’t be surprised about the sight of Jaebum still holding his friend by his collar.

“Give us a minute—”

“We’re done here—”

They both speak up at the same time and Younghyun just raises his eyebrows at that – he’s heard that this particular company of friends are rather weird, but he’s never thought it’s this severe. Though scratch that – he should’ve known when he heard that story about Jaebum deciding Bambam lacks accuracy while shooting after the guy was just accepted into the team. One afternoon, they were running around the entire building armed with water guns, screeching in laughter and Bambam trying to hit his new boss with water as accurately as possible.

Jinyoung pushes Jaebum back to his chair. “No, we’re not done yet.” After Younghyun leaves, Jinyoung falls back into his seat fixing his shirt and tie. “And you say you’re suitable to work while being like that? What if Wang ever says something you don’t like to hear, are you going to try and strangle him too?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Jaebum mumbles.

Jinyoung tiredly rubs his eyes. Sure, he might’ve pushed this a little too far – he didn’t mean it was Bambam’s fault, because it truly wasn’t; but they couldn’t live in this misery for the rest of their lives. Time was passing by no matter how much they all are still grieving, but Jaebum either couldn’t or plainly refused to understand that.

“This is what we’re going to do.” He says, not really looking at Jaebum, when he pushes the latter’s gun towards him. “Yugyeom is going to remove your medical reports from the system. Two weeks from now, on Thursday at 5:10 PM to be specific, you’ll show up at your evaluation. If you pass, you pass – I’m going to keep whatever happened here a secret. If you don’t pass, you will voluntarily take a leave to get help and return only for the next evaluation.”

“The next one is after a _year_.”

“Exactly. And if you don’t pass then, you’ll return next year, and then the next year, until you pass.”

“I’m absolutely fine, you can’t—”

“I’m not bargaining.” Jinyoung calmly silences him. “You might get a kick out of knowing you can die any second, but I don’t. You’re my friend and colleague and I’m not going to let you risk everything for nothing. You can refuse, but if you walk out of this office without agreeing to do how I say, I’m going to fire you myself.”

Jaebum closes his eyes. Sure, he really could just walk out – Jinyoung is too nice, too soft to really fire him, at least he hopes so; but there’s always a chance he’s going to pass the evaluation – it’s just the basic stuff, done rather in a rush, nobody really cares. It’s mostly for getting a stamp in your file.

“Who’s the doctor in charge this year?” Jaebum asks, trying to sound matter-of-factly, but in reality, he’s calculating his possibilities. Doctors in charge of their medical evaluations are the most important ones – even if you pass everything else, your examination is assumed void if the doctor in charge refuses to sign it.

“Doctor Woo from Seoul National University’s hospital, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

Jaebum’s heart sinks. “He’s…”

“Yes,” Jinyoung kindly smiles, but his eyes are cold. “He’s a psychologist. Now get back to work.”

 

“Can someone explain me why on earth did this Youngjae guy send me an email thanking for a pleasant visit of Jaebum hyung's with such an aggressive undertone, it seemed like he was about to pop out of the attachment to punch me in the face?” Yugyeom asks the next morning, when they’re all sleepy and disheveled, gathered for a short briefing.

“Only after someone explains why nobody told us that the assistant Youngjae and the co-owner Youngjae is the same person.” Jaebum says, slightly taken aback by himself for using “us”; luckily, Tuan doesn’t hear it – he’s not even in the room to begin with, the chair in front of Jaebum is empty.

Yugyeom sighs. “We figured this out when you were on your way there, so the American team suggested not to stress you out more than you already were. It doesn’t make that much of a difference when Choi Youngjae is just a speck in Wang’s schemes. By the way, gossip has it,” He laughs a little, because no one from CIA aren’t here yet either, “Mark told them to leave you alone after Peters almost crushed your nose into dust.”

Jaebum decides to ignore that, because he doesn’t need Mark telling people to leave him alone, and focuses on his report. Eventually the CIA team gathers, but Tuan isn’t among them. Yugyeom suggests waiting, since they can’t really proceed when there’s a person missing without warning them beforehand; Americans tell them it’s okay, they haven’t heard from Mark ever since last evening, but he’s probably either sleeping or checking stuff for their drug cases, no point in waiting.

Jinyoung doesn’t seem very happy about this, throwing a stare at Jaebum. “So why don’t you tell us what happened yesterday?”

Jaebum does; he doesn’t go into unnecessary details, his report is brief but accurate, keeping his personal emotions away from the case. That’s why even though it feels like yesterday lasted for a few years, his story told out loud takes less than three minutes.

“Anyway,” he concludes. “We've underestimated Wang, he’s just as smart as he’s stupid. Not a good combo.”

“What do you mean? Did we miss something important?” A guy from Mark’s team asks.

“He sees through things we don’t want him to see through. Not in an obvious way, he uses the wrong route to get to the truth, but he gets to it – like that fact I’m not reaching out to him for fencing lessons. He’s unpredictable that way, that’s how he’s dangerous. You can never know which lie to cover yourself up with.”

“Anything else, hyung?” Yugyeom asks, and Jaebum makes a brief pause before telling he has some kind of date arranged with Wang on Friday evening, so their efforts didn’t go to waste.

If someone asked, Jaebum couldn’t have told what exactly he felt when he finally noticed Jackson’s message after returning home. All he wanted to do was to take a shower, to scrub all this strange dirtiness away from his skin and crash to sleep while his mind still allowed him to – but then he checked his phone.

Sure, the first thing he felt probably was relief that they haven’t fucked up completely; and yet at the same time, Jaebum felt a lot of other things – disgust, anxiety, fear. The most dangerous feeling though, the one that scared Jaebum, was an adrenaline rush. Some fucked up excitement to tread on eggshells for his life; the eagerness of a person who doesn’t mind risking everything when he feels like he has nothing.

Mark doesn’t show up in the early afternoon, he doesn’t show up after lunch either, and Jaebum, to his own surprise, feels a little annoyed by it – probably because there’s no one to pick on and there’s no one picking on him.

“What are Wang’s plans?” Jinyoung asks. “We should keep a close track of him.”

“He has nothing scheduled for the upcoming week.” Yugyeom tells after a few clicks on his laptop and it makes Jaebum lift his head from papers. “Only Friday evening is reserved for a “personal schedule”, so I assume it’s hyung’s meeting.”

Jaebum finds it weird. A person like Wang, one of the most wanted celebrities at the moment, should definitely be busier than one meeting with a potential lover; he can clearly remember Jackson saying their meeting got rearranged because he has things to take care of.

And then it somehow clicks. Ansan.

Jackson said he has stuff to take care of in _Ansan_ tomorrow evening, so it must be severely unofficial for a person who even schedules in his possible fucks – because that’s what Jaebum is about to become.

“Do we have anything related to Ansan in this case, like anything at all?”

“Ansan?” Jinyoung thinks for a while. “Not much. Wang has some warehouses there or something, but we’ve searched them beforehand – well, as much as we could without letting him know – but most of them are completely empty.”

Jaebum only mumbles something unintelligible, but the thought about it doesn’t leave him; it’s annoyingly drilling into his head, so at some point in the late afternoon, when most of the office is completely empty except for Jinyoung and a few CIA guys mapping something out, he puts his reports aside.

Jinyoung raises his eyebrows, but neither asks nor stops him.

 

Jaebum feels a little stupid when he’s stuck in a traffic jam on a road to leave the city – he knows it’s probably wrong to act so hurriedly, without any plan; perhaps his decision was made a little too frantically, he thinks, looking at a hoodie tossed on the passenger seat of his car – there’s a gun under it.

But in the end, he decides that doing this is better than doing absolutely nothing; and if his guts are telling him there’s something in Ansan, it’s very likely there _is_ something they should be aware of. It’s only an hour long drive, and he’s been itching to leave the noise of Seoul at least for a while anyway.

He’s not that far into the highway, there still is plenty of Seoul area signs, when his phone starts buzzing. Jaebum flinches, but sighs in relief seeing the caller ID isn’t Wang’s. But although it’s not him, Jaebum can’t decide whether to pick up, because it’s Tuan. He got the American’s phone number on the first day, more because of politeness than real urge.

Mark seems to be persistent on this one – one call is followed by another, and Jaebum finally picks the fourth one up. “What?” He’s curt as he always is with Mark, but the latter either has already learned how to ignore it or the reason behind his call is too urgent to pay any attention.

Unfortunately, this time it’s the second one.

“You’re being tailed.”

“I’m _what_?”

“Don’t fidget around.” Mark says into the phone just before Jaebum gets the temptation to try looking around. “Go where you’re going. When you enter Ansan go to Byeolmangseong Art Festival’s venue.” It takes a few seconds for Jaebum to memorize the address Tuan is telling him. “Take a nice walk there, and when you decide to return to Seoul, I’ll be following you back.”

Even though nervousness finds it’s way back into Jaebum’s lungs, making it hard to breathe, he doesn’t ask what is going on – he doesn’t ask how Mark knows where he is and that he’s being tailed; he doesn’t even ask where Mark himself is – for once, he’s actually following the protocol, and it says that questions can wait.

When Mark hangs up on him and Jaebum focuses on the road, he finally sees it – an old black car behind him, maintaining some distance so it wouldn’t be suspicious, but obviously not leaving him alone although it could just pass by Jaebum and go forward. Jaebum isn’t sure who’s driving – he can’t really look without giving himself away, so he just grabs the wheel tighter humming some song to himself to take his mind off it.

The rest of the drive to Ansan is relatively uneventful – the black car doesn’t leave Jaebum alone no matter how many times he tries to subtly get lost in the mass of other cars; he memorizes the plate number, even though he knows it won’t help – it’s either fake or stolen.

Jaebum parks his car in the parking lot at the same address Tuan told him to, returning to it a few moments later to take his wallet he conveniently left inside the car, hoping to see if the person is following him into the festival as well – but there’s nothing.

The car is gone, making Jaebum question a little whether it was only a figment of his imagination, but then he tells himself to stop being ridiculous. He’s still careful though, turning around and letting himself to get swallowed by the mass of people attending the festival. Jaebum has heard about it – an annual celebration to commemorate the patriotic acts of their ancestors; there’s a lot of colorful paintings and loud traditional music, people in hanboks, and Jaebum remembers it’s the song his grandmother used to listen when he was a kid.

The memories of his childhood make his heart even heavier and while drowning in it, Jaebum thinks he can see a familiar blonde mop of hair passing by right in front of him; but when he looks closer, it’s already gone, so he doesn’t search for it.

The venue is rather big, so Jaebum spends quite some time before absentmindedly stopping by a stall where some kid is selling traditional paintings. It’s his grandfather’s work, the kid explains, mistaking Jaebum stopping to look at it as real interest, but those brown genuine eyes of the little boy somehow draw him in – perhaps because it’s so similar to Bambam’s.

He squats down, so he’d be on the same level as the kid and they talk for a while; Jaebum’s heart warms up as the boy enthusiastically talks about how great of an artist his grandfather is, just that he’s sick now and can’t paint often, so they have to sell some of the paintings.

Fifteen minutes later, Jaebum walks away with three paintings in his arms, leaving the boy way too much money than it was the total sum; it makes him happy though, the relieved smile on the boy’s face, and he can’t even tell when his lip corners rise a little too.

After that he finally returns to his car, feeling lighter, like the storm clouds that were piling above his head have moved away a little. Jaebum looks around to check if the car that has been following him hasn’t returned, but it’s hasn’t – the parking lot is starting to get emptier and emptier.

When Jaebum is about to leave Ansan, right before crossing the city border, a car appears behind him, and it gets him a little startled, but through a rearview mirror he can see it’s a NIS’s car and that Mark is behind the wheel. He hates to admit it, but it makes him feel calmer.

Due to empty roads it takes less an hour for them to return and park their cars in the same parking lot of the headquarters.

“What was that all about?” Jaebum asks, when Tuan gets off his car and walks up to him. This time, though, he doesn’t sound mad or annoyed. “How did you know I was being tailed?”

“Let’s say I…” Mark pauses, thinking how to put it in words. “I was about to tail you to Ansan, but someone got to it first.”

“How did you even know I was going to Ansan?”

Mark lightly smiles. “Wang said he’s going to be in Ansan tomorrow, so I knew you’ll be able to add two and two. I guess I was just trying to make sure you… won’t do anything stupid alone.”

Jaebum doesn’t like how Mark words it, but he doesn’t say anything except, “Thanks.” For a second Mark looks like he’s shocked by these words, since it’s probably the softest thing Jaebum has ever said to him, but the latter quickly changes the topic. “Do you think Wang ordered his people to keep an eye on me?”

“At least I don’t know anyone else who would, do you?” After Jaebum shakes his head, he continues, “I suggest you to be careful now. If they find out where you’re really working at, it’s truly a game over.”

They return to the office, because both of them have some work to do, especially Tuan, who skipped the entire day – but when Jaebum asks where he was, the American only smiles and says it doesn’t matter. Jaebum doesn’t pester him.

Jaebum starts his office work by checking the plate number of the car, but he turns out to be right – it’s fake, not registered anywhere within Korea, and a few more clicks in police databases tell him that the car itself is stolen from a middle-aged teacher in Busan.

It’s a little after midnight when he starts feeling like he’s never going to leave this place due to all the paperwork; as if sensing that, Mark comes to his office, as the CIA usually occupy any other spare room, holding a box of something. Jaebum lifts his eyes at the guy, who looks just as tired and sleepy, if not more.

“It’s Chuseok by now, isn’t it?” Mark tells, seeing his confused stare, and then Jaebum remembers; it throws him back to the conversation he had with his mother a few days ago, opening the wound yet again. It’s clear how his facial expression immediately drops, because Mark gets concerned. Jaebum hates how obviously Tuan doesn’t mean anything harmful, holding a stupid box of rice cakes and handing them to him.

“Why are you doing this?”

Mark’s smile doesn’t falter even though the laughter which follows is a little bitter and fake. “Chuseok is all about spending time with family, right? It doesn’t seem like you’ll get to visit yours, so…”

“You don’t need to—”

“I know how it feels to miss your parents, Jaebum. I haven’t seen mine in eight years.”

Jaebum doesn’t know what to say, so he only awkwardly smiles, taking the box. Something about Tuan’s words makes him feel uneasy, sad even; even though Jaebum still can’t say he likes the American guy, he at least accepts that he’s not the only one sacrificing things for work. At 4 AM, when Jaebum decides it’s enough of work and goes down the corridor to get to his car, he spots Mark in one of the briefing rooms with glass walls; he’s sleeping resting his head on the table, the blueish color of his laptop making his face ghost-like, and Jaebum feels sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i said university deadlines have me :/ ? now i'm basically writing from my grave.
> 
> anyhow, we're making progress, no tw warnings AND markbum are having some closeness over rice cakes lmao. i hope i didn't leave any embarrassing typos, because my spellcheck skills left me after finishing one of my graduation theses lmao. anyway, i hope yall liked it, comments are always welcomed! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm back to deliver you some pain, probably, and finally add something that would justify why this fic is tagged as mature content.
> 
> tw: descriptions of blood (there's no blood really, just jaebum gets a little too metaphorical about it, so just in case); also vomiting. that should be it

The rest of the week till the meeting with Wang falls into an eerie routine for Jaebum.

These days, he gets up in the morning after a restless sleep filled with nightmares or without any sleep at all, takes a shower, dresses up and leaves to work taking countless detours from his usual route. He’s still being followed – it’s never the same car, but Jaebum just _knows_ when he’s being tailed all the way across the city.

In a way, with a painfully clenched jaw and shaky hands, Jaebum learns how to treat those cars like a very odd companion; no matter where he goes, he’s only followed until he reaches a destination he picks to drop his car off before thinking of another way to get to work, it’s almost as those cars and their drivers would be making sure he reaches that temporary stop safely.

Eventually, the fear and uneasiness is changed into a sense of routine and being sorry to his teammates and other people he’s working with; even though Yugyeom tells him not to worry, assuring him that it’s his safety that matters, Jaebum still feels like garbage for keeping people waiting, always getting late to meetings and briefings, because he’s too busy trying to get rid of his tails every day.

That Thursday Jaebum shows up at work only in the afternoon – both because he slept in, finally falling asleep only at 7 AM after seeing some news report related to Thailand, and because his tail of the day, a dark blue Hyundai, kept following him _everywhere_. To a coffee shop, to a bookstore almost on the other side of the city, even to the highway leading to Jaebum’s hometown. Jaebum changed his mind halfway, turning around to go back to the city, one hand already on his phone to call for back up, because this time it really felt he won’t be capable to show up at work at all.

The person following him finally left him alone somewhere in Apgujeong – Jaebum has to thank a traffic jam and his not so bad driving skills, squeezing the car in between two others to distance himself from the dark blue Hyundai; when he enters the headquarters, the briefing is already over, everyone’s moved onto their daily tasks. Jaebum sighs, feeling a familiar heaviness about being only a burden to the team curiously lifting its head in his heart, before he spots Tuan in the waiting room of his office.

“Shouldn’t you be working on the drug exchange?” Jaebum asks after a pause, without a greeting, without acknowledging any of the feelings he felt just a few days ago. According to the newest information they’ve acquired, one of Wang’s drug deals should be taking place soon.

Mark only smiles, standing up from an old chair with ugly grey upholstery. Originally, it was red, but Jaebum grew to hate color red after their mission in Shilla, so he had it changed. “I left my team to work on it, I’m sure they’ll survive a few hours without me. I actually… I—” Mark stutters a little, clutching some papers in his hand, and it makes Jaebum curious. “I need a…”

It takes only a short glimpse at the papers the American agent is holding, because he’s not particularly hiding them and suddenly the atmosphere gets a little awkward, more than it usually is. Mark needs a mission evaluation report – a senior teammate or another responsible person always has to write one after an agent’s first field mission, that’s a part of protocol. Jaebum has forgotten about those, it’s been years since he wrote Yugyeom’s, and he never got to write Bambam’s—

_Not now, Jaebum._

His jaw tightens again at the thought about the Thai boy, and his shoulders tense up too, but Jaebum still sounds somewhat normal when he nods towards his office saying, “Come with me then.”

Mark seems to be a little relieved about Jaebum quickly figuring out what’s that about; being twenty-seven years old with eight years of working experience in CIA and not having participated in a single field mission feels embarrassing to him, even though Mark never says it out loud.

When Jaebum gestures him to sit somewhere because it will take some time, Mark picks a place at Jaebum’s work desk right in front of him, while his Korean colleague is skimming through the document to understand what exactly he needs to write.

Jaebum’s office is rather messy, papers and personal things scattered everywhere contrasting with how meticulously he acts everywhere else; Mark doesn’t pick on it, noticing two photo frames on the desk – they’re dropped on it carelessly as if Jaebum once bumped into the desk and the frames fell down, but Mark can tell that in one of the frames there’s a photo of undoubtedly Jaebum’s parents.

Another one is harder to figure out in the angle Mark’s looking at it, but it’s most probably Jaebum’s former team – Yugyeom in the photo, even though it’s obviously taken quite a while ago, is just as lanky as he is now, with dark hair almost covering his eyes in a bowl cut, Jinyoung is there too, barely changed. There’s another boy in the photo, Mark has never met him, but the foreign features give away that it’s probably Bambam – warm eyes and wide smile is what Mark notices first, before his eyes move onto Jaebum.

In the photo, Jaebum is smiling, probably in a midst of a laughing fit, one of his arms is carelessly thrown around Jinyoung and another one around Bambam, while Yugyeom is making a face behind them. It feels like looking at a total stranger, the guy Mark knows now doesn’t remind of Jaebum in the photo in the slightest.

Jaebum’s eyes eventually slide away from the papers and he notices where Mark is staring, he obviously does, but doesn’t say anything; he only moves the photos away from the sight, putting them into an empty drawer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks after clearing his throat.

“Didn’t tell you what?”

“That it’s your first mission. Jinyoung told me.” Jaebum says, looking at the guy. Sure, they’re all tired, always on standby in case something unexpected happens, but Mark looks the worst out of them, second only to, perhaps, Jaebum himself. It’s like Mark hasn’t slept for a few days straight, he’s too pale for it to be healthy and so thin, probably a smallest gust of wind would blow him away.

“I don’t know how things work here, but back in America it’s not a thing to brag about.” Mark responds, and Jaebum gets a little surprised how he’s still able to let out a smile at him. “And besides, it wouldn’t have changed a thing, would it?”

Jaebum wants to oppose, to say that there are special procedures they have to follow if someone from a team is assigned a mission for the first time, but he doesn’t. He’s never followed those procedures anyway, and in the end, Mark is right – it wouldn’t have changed a single thing in the way Jaebum treated him. So all he says is, “Do you need a printed version or a handwritten one?”

“Handwritten. My higher-ups think it’s more… trustworthy that way. They don’t trust me with printed things anymore.” Mark laughs, tired eyes sparkling mischievously for a while, and Jaebum wonders what is that supposed to mean.

It’s all the default questions – under what circumstances Jaebum has been assigned to work with Mark; how long they’ve been working together prior the mission; how well Mark has adapted himself to a new working environment and dangerous situations. Jaebum gets bored soon, writing the answers almost mechanically.

“Just don’t screw me over because you hate me.” Mark notes.

“I don’t hate you.” Jaebum says absentmindedly, his inner alarm about it being a great time to shut up turns on too late. It’s true however – he’s _angry_ at him most of the time, sick and tired of his and CIA bullshit, but it’s not hate. Definitely not. “I do think you’re a pain in the ass, but it’s not my job to wait for your tiniest mistakes to get rid of you. Sign here,” Jaebum adds after his pen makes a sharp sound, pressing into the paper. “It needs your signature too.”

Mark doesn’t comment on his previous words, being a little surprised how open Jaebum is with him, and only after he takes the pen to sign, Jaebum finally notices something odd. “You’re left-handed.”

“So? Am I not allowed to be because you are or something?”

“You shoot with your right hand.” Jaebum notes, the memories of their face-off in the shooting range creeping up his mind. Usually, one ends up shooting with their dominant hand, that’s why Jaebum shoots with his left and Yugyeom with his right, and so on – and that’s why Mark’s way of handling a gun is strange.

“Oh, that.” Mark says, but his speech becomes a little tense too. “I was born left-handed, but my parents decided they want me to use the other one, so I ended up learning how to do everything with my right hand. I dropped it when I was in high school, but I still do some things better with my right one.”

It kind of makes sense, so Jaebum doesn’t have any more questions. Mark takes his papers after they get stamped with an official NIS stamp and he can go, but he doesn’t. He sits still and keeps staring at Jaebum, what catches the latter off guard.

“Is there something else?” he asks.

For a while it looks like Mark is hesitating to speak up, as if Korean words he’s learned would be leaving him one by one and the English ones would be somehow hard to say out loud.

“How do you feel about tomorrow?”

Jaebum doesn’t know what to say – he _doesn’t know_ what he feels about tomorrow. Wang’s message, the one he got earlier this morning about the time and place they’re meeting at is still left officially unread, but in reality Jaebum has read it from his notification bar at least twenty times.

Is he scared? Yes. Disgusted? You bet. Angry? All that keeps him alive these days is anger, pure rage. And all those emotions are mixing into one nasty mixture inside him so well, creating so many sub-products like helplessness and despair, Jaebum is unable to understand where one feeling ends and another one starts.

“It doesn’t matter.” He says and tries to convince himself with it. Work is just that – work, nothing more and nothing less. There’s a set goal and Jaebum imagines himself like a chess figure, a puppet needed to achieve that certain goal.

“What’s the plan?”

“There’s none.” Jaebum admits, shrugging it off. “I meet him, most probably fuck him, make him trust me again, all that jazz. We’ve talked about it countless times during briefings you skip so often.” It’s true – Mark does skip a whole lot of meetings these days, disappearing somewhere for a long while before reappearing again. Even his teammates don’t know where he is during those moments.

“I have other places to be.” Mark says, and his tone is flat, clearly telling Jaebum not to question. “Anyway, when should I pick you up tomorrow or are we leaving from the headquarters?”

Jaebum blinks a few times. “What do you mean?”

“I’m your driver and a bodyguard.” Mark reminds him with a slight smile, amused that Jaebum has forgotten this detail already. “Or do you think I’m letting you go completely alone?”

“You’re _not_ going with me. After the stunt with snooping around in the agency, Jackson doesn’t trust you and if he sees you around me often, he’ll stop trusting me too.”

Mark shakes his head. “I’ll just take you there and be around if things don’t turn out to be in your favor after all. You can never know with people like him and I’m not willing to take risks on this one.”

Jaebum, however, doesn’t want neither to listen nor bargain. “Listen, Tuan – just because we’re having this conversation without throwing hands at each other, doesn’t mean I like you and want you to—”

“I don’t need you to like me.” Mark interrupts, voice strict. “I need you to trust me. That’s why I’m here, that’s why I was assigned to your team, so you wouldn’t be ears deep into this shit alone.”

Does Jaebum trust him? It’s another thing he doesn’t know. He’s thankful for what happened in Ansan, he really is – he could’ve died there that evening, not noticing a car following him, if Mark hadn’t warned him. But no matter how hard Jaebum thinks about it, that evening raises more questions than gives answers.

_How did Mark know Jaebum will realize he needs to go to Ansan? Since when he was following Jaebum and how did he notice the car that was tailing him? How did Mark know the address of the festival venue so well, when even locals usually aren’t too sure? How did he know it’s going to be safe to let Jaebum walk around alone and that the mysterious car won’t be following them back to Seoul?_

And that’s why he can’t tell that he fully trusts Mark Tuan, not yet.

 

In the end, Mark does go with him.

He doesn’t even really ask for permission anymore, he knows Jaebum won’t give it to him anyway – next afternoon, just before 4 PM, he shows up in Jaebum’s office in his undercover attire; that’s a simple black suit, you could see countless of those around the city. Your absolutely plain, boring driver if it wasn’t for his blonde hair.

Jaebum lifts his eyes from the papers he’s signing – or would be signing if his hands weren’t shaking so bad to the point he can’t really hold a pen properly. He’s not even sure _why_ he’s so afraid, no matter how dangerous it might’ve been, he was never like that during any other mission; he never had to create absurd tasks he doesn’t have to do simply to prevent his mind from driving him into panic.

“I don’t—”

“I don’t care what you’re going to say about this. I’m not letting you go alone.” Mark says and his voice is uncharacteristically strict. He’s been like this the entire day – this morning, while going to get coffee from the coffee machine in the other end of the corridor, Jaebum saw him yelling at his team members for some reason, looking so, so tense and mad. It was the first time Jaebum has seen him like that, but he has other things to think about.

He feels like a teen again, having spent hours on end thinking what to wear to the “date” and what to say during it. However, this time it’s nowhere near those time when he used to feel butterflies in his stomach – this morning, while picking a dark blue dress shirt and suit pants, he thought only about possible places to hide a gun in; about what to do if, or when, this entire circus goes sideways in front of Wang’s eyes.

He doesn’t argue with Tuan anymore, the clock on his wrist painfully reminds him it’s already time to go; he has an hour left till the meeting. Jaebum pushes the papers away, letting some of them fall on the ground, and just before he reaches the door of his office, Mark stops him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Take off your tie.”

“Huh?” Jaebum hears it all as if it would be said through a broken radio; the tie is his last concern until Mark, softly, trying not to scare him away, unties it and throws it onto the nearest chair.

“It’s too formal. This is not a business meeting, Jaebum.” He says, rather emotionlessly. “You need to seem as approachable as possible.”

Jaebum only absentmindedly nods, blindly following Mark into the parking lot and trying to avoid the stares of coworkers he meets on their way. It feels like he’s been sentenced with a death penalty, with everyone looking at him with concern and pity. They all undoubtedly know where he’s going and what for.

He snaps back out of it only when Mark starts the engine of the car finally moves from the parking lot of NIS, and asks, “Still no plan?”

Jaebum still doesn’t have one. He’s born to improvise, to simply dive head-first into unknown and hope not to die. Or to hope to, he doesn’t know even that. “To stick with the flow?” He weakly says, checking his buzzing phone. Wang apparently is on his way already, telling Jaebum not to worry about it – he finished his schedules early, that’s why he’s going to be there first.

There were no schedules to begin with, Jaebum remembers, and the way Wang is spewing lies at him makes him shiver and wonder where on earth Jackson was and what was he doing.

“I assume… you’re not going to let me have you tapped?” Mark asks, making a turn and passing by some random car, already knowing that the answer is going to be negative. Jaebum feels a little sick at the thought of someone listening to whatever is going to happen there, so Mark concludes, “Well, then I guess I’ll just stick around.”

“It can take hours.” Jaebum reminds him. “If it all goes well…” His voice gets stuck in his throat for a while, thinking how ironic it sounds, to call getting sexually involved with a potential criminal “well”. “It might take till tomorrow morning. You can’t keep following us around for this long, it will seem suspicious.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

They don’t talk anymore during the entire ride, until Mark pulls over in a parking lot of some fancy restaurant somewhere in Gangnam. To Jaebum’s horror, Wang, most probably bored of sitting inside, or just because he _can_ , is waiting for him in the same parking lot, dressed in simple black jeans and white shirt.

Jaebum wants to tell Mark to stay in his seat and just drive away as soon as he gets off, remembering how the last encounter of him and Wang ended, but it’s too late. Mark gets into his role of bodyguard and driver a little too quickly and easily, swiftly getting off the car to open doors for Jaebum with a light, polite, but fake nevertheless smile.

If Jackson’s face was on the neutral side before seeing that Jaebum’s not alone, now, looking at Mark by his side, Wang’s face distorts into poorly hidden contempt. And Jaebum, awkwardly shaking Jackson’s hand under the obvious pretense of not wanting to be affectionate around his staff, feels his heart sinking a little, seeing the burning anger in Wang’s eyes, anger that’s directed at Mark.

“I don’t remember inviting your driver to join us, Mr. Im, I’m not _that_ rich to pay for a dinner of three people.” Jackson finally says, with some humor, but they all know how much poison there is behind that voice.

“He’s just dropping me off before finishing his work for today. I assume, I won’t need him later tonight.” Jaebum tries to make his voice sound nonchalant – he succeeds, kind of, but the urge to shoo Mark away, to make him go before it gets dangerous, doesn’t leave him alone. “You may go now, I’ll call you if I need something.”

Mark nods at those words and is about to bow, when Jackson opens his mouth. “It was nice to see you again, Mr. Tuan.”

It alerts Jaebum; the way it’s said, the strange emphasis and the need to address Mark separately again makes his blood freeze. Mark doesn’t bat an eyelash, just politely bows in goodbye without a word, leaving them completely alone.

“Should we go inside?” Jackson asks, and when Jaebum doesn’t say anything, he takes that as a yes. Jaebum tries his best not to flinch when Wang nonchalantly puts his arm around his waist and drags him closer; however, he can only take a deep breath and smile at that.

Jackson is different when he’s not packed into formal clothes and forced into the four walls of his agency. Of course, there’s still an obvious guard he’s keeping up while Jaebum is pretending to read a menu, getting dizzy looking at the prices of this place; but he’s livelier and less obviously intimidating.

It’s everything Jaebum could ever want in order to succeed with this task, but instead of waiting for his little chances to make Wang even more hooked on him than he already is, Jaebum gladly downs a glass of wine almost in one go. The bitterness spreading through his throat is more pleasant than the surroundings, even though Jackson looks at him with his eyebrows a little raised.

“Rough day or something?” Wang asks, reminding all the reasons Jaebum despises his smile. “Something wrong in the company?”

His question is targeted at all the right places, as if Jackson would know where to aim – but Jaebum’s not insane, not completely; he gives Wang fake stories about a nonexistent investment company in return while they’re waiting for their meals in a restaurant with ridiculously many people inside, as if everyone suddenly has decided they can throw hundred bucks for a steak. They’re all rich and mostly at least a little bit famous, so no one’s gasping seeing Jackson – it eases things a little.

Jaebum’s voice is low and slow, like they wouldn’t be discussing stocks, but something more exciting. Maybe it’s because of the wine finally kicking in, but he doesn’t shudder anymore when Wang pretends to have put his hand on Jaebum’s fingers by accident.

It’s either him or Wang – only one of them will win this game; and Jaebum is determined to make Jackson lose. Until the guy, sneakily catching Jaebum off guard, with the most casual voice ever, like he’d be discussing tomorrow’s weather, asks, “What were you doing in Ansan this Monday, Jaebum?”

The temperature around them drops a few degrees, but both of them are professionals, keeping up their acts – and in this show, Jaebum keeps his cover of an investor who would die just to get into Jackson Wang’s pants, while Wang himself pretends to be harmless even when his eyes are cold, testing how much he can trust his potential lover.

“How do you know I was there?” Jaebum asks, putting his fork down, feeling how a bite of meat is getting stuck in his throat. The forks clinks against his plate too loudly, the sound of it resonating in his ears with undertones of danger. Jaebum knows there’s no point in lying, Jackson _knows_ he was there, and it’s only a test to see how honest he’s ready to be.

“I have eyes everywhere.” Jackson says, looking at his glass of wine a little bored. “Let’s say I have a friend who saw you in one particular festival. Never took you as the type to be this soft around kids, Im Jaebum. The kid’s a known scammer, his grandfather isn’t sick, and the paintings are stolen replicas of other works.”

Jaebum’s heart drops. _Just how closely he’s being followed?_

But his face is forever frozen into a fake light smile, painfully tearing his cheeks apart. “One more word and I’ll start thinking you’re stalking me, Jackson. Private trips are _private._ I think you, out of all people, should know and value that.”

“Right,” Jackson smiles. “I do value privacy and I’m glad our views on it match. Since, you know… Reporters might become an issue at one point or another.”

“At one point or another?”

“I’d be glad to accept your initial offer.” Wang kindly smiles as if by sleeping around with Jaebum he’d be doing some kind of charity work, and shivers run down Jaebum’s spine once again. “We’re both young, have tons of money, so I think we should use this opportunity. I just don’t want the media to kill the vibe.”

Jaebum knows what he’s talking about, he’s read it – every single sweetheart of Jackson’s has been mercilessly torn apart in gossip magazines in the dirtiest ways one could imagine. Media can be pretty brutal when it comes to one of the most desired men in the country, they can dig out everything they want – from your parents’ debts to the name of a goldfish you had when you were five. And Jaebum, most decidedly, doesn’t need a headline along the lines of Wang’s new fucktoy being a NIS agent.

Jackson offers a toast to the new adventure and their wine classes clinking against each other seals the hint of how tonight and many other nights are supposed to end.

And Jaebum’s not wrong about it, not at all, when four hours later he’s in Jackson’s rented apartment somewhere in the center of the city. Of course, he knows Jackson isn’t about to bring him to his main residence after knowing him for such short period of time, but he’s okay with it when he holds yet another glass of wine with a hidden intention to just black out at some point, and Wang, just as tipsy, pushes him against a light blue wall. Some popular song is silently playing the background when Jackson kisses him – unexpectedly gently and softly at first, swallowing Jaebum’s surprised gasp with his lips.

Jaebum himself would love to say he’s numb, that he doesn’t feel anything – but his body does. He feels it so damn clearly when Jackson’s hands from his back drop to his ass, giving it a rather rough squeeze. He feels how the glass of red wine finally slips out of his grip when Jackson is kissing his neck. The stain on the carpet reminds of blood to Jaebum before he closes his eyes, accepting his role in this game, it reminds of blood a little too much.

However, blood is all Jaebum sees even under his closed eyes, when Jackson starts unbuttoning his shirt only to give up halfway, deciding to go for his pants instead. The air smells like blood too, when Jaebum’s breath hitches thanks to Wang’s drunkenly sloppy movements around his crotch.

Even the night sky is red for Jaebum, and he hates the color red.

It’s ridiculous how delicate and soft Jackson can get when it comes to his bedroom matters, having Jaebum’s suit pants down to his calves in one swift movement; how he doesn’t remind of a puppy anymore, but a kitten with the way he eagerly licks the tip of Jaebum’s dick.

Jaebum doesn’t have where to hold, so he tries to get a better grip of the wall, as the sensations wash through him all at once like a tidal wave – the feeling of how disgusting this situation is, when Jackson’s tongue is sliding all the way to the base of his cock, making his legs shake. The feeling of knowing, or at least having a hunch on why Jackson is acting like that – he loves making impact on people; and those few moans that eventually escape Jaebum’s lips is exactly the impact Jackson wants to have here.

And Jaebum is also afraid. Afraid of his body giving in, afraid of the fact that he can’t really blame alcohol on that because he’s not _that_ drunk. Jaebum is simply too deprived of contact with people, both emotional and physical; contact that isn’t his shooting instructor correcting his posture and the way he keeps his arms while aiming.

Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, though.

Jackson’s skilled in these matters, definitely, but with Jaebum he’s also extremely calculative, it’s a little too obvious that he has another plan up his sleeve – it’s clear from the way he ignores Jaebum’s moans and whines, from the way he lets Jaebum’s cock to slip out of his mouth, when the latter needs the exact opposite, being so, so close.

“If you want something, you have to ask.” He says, looking at Jaebum, who’s a drunkenly blushing mess, with disheveled hair, and sweaty forehead.

So _that’s_ what Jackson wants, what makes him tick. He loves people begging, he loves making people _need_ him, and Jaebum’s mind somehow connects it to Wang’s words about him having to beg for support from the Fencing Federation when he was a teen.

Interesting how such events shape people, but Jaebum isn’t here to be an armchair psychologist. He’s only a human now, a simple mortal with basic urges; and those urges now are to finish what they’ve started.

“Jackson…” his voice is a little muffled. “ _Please._ ”

“Good boy.” Wang’s lenient tonight, it seems, as he gets back to Jaebum hard cock, and goes down on it as deep as he possibly can, finally letting Jaebum fuck his throat the way he wants.

It doesn’t take long for Jaebum to cum inside Jackson’s mouth, white strings of semen running down his chin as he’s unable to swallow it all, undoubtedly ruining the white shirt he’s still wearing. Jackson doesn’t care though, he doesn’t even wipe it off before standing up and pressing his lips against Jaebum’s.

That the last thing Jaebum remembers clearly before finally blacking out to ease his heavy heart – their saliva mixing with the semen that’s still inside Jackson’s mouth. Even if it makes Jaebum want to vomit his guts out, he doesn’t remember it.

 

He comes back to his senses only late in the morning; at first, Jaebum doesn’t even want to open his eyes, it’s too nice to float in this strange bubble of nothingness being surrounded by darkness. His ears catch a sound, annoyingly trying to reach his brain, it’s someone’s voice and it takes a few minutes for Jaebum to understand that it’s Jackson, talking with someone over the phone.

He’s still at Wang’s place. Last night really did happen.

Jaebum doesn’t remember much of the events that happened after Jackson sucked him off – his memories are scattered, fragmented like a puzzle that doesn’t really want to stick back together. Yet some bits are still in front of his eyes – how they ended up in this room, how oddly helpless Jackson’s moans were when Jaebum was pounding into him; all the things he doesn’t want to remember.

Jaebum is still in Jackson’s bed, with nothing but bedsheets around him. Jackson is standing next to a window with a black robe on himself, as he’s still talking with someone, so Jaebum pretends to be asleep, when Wang spares a backhanded glimpse at him.

“Yeah, he’s with me now.” He says into the phone. “No, totally harmless, I was surprised actually.” Jackson pauses for a little while. “I _know_ what Youngjae said, but it doesn’t seem like the case. Perhaps I’ll even have fun after all.” A few Chinese sentences follow after that, most probably Jaebum’s legs unconsciously twitch for some reason, and Jackson takes it as a cue that it’s dangerous to continue the call, because his lover is about to wake up.

When Jaebum opens his eyes, Wang is leaning against the windowsill smiling at him, because he looks a whole lot confused, and half of it isn’t even acting.

“Awake already?” Jackson asks. “You can go back to sleep if you want, I don’t mind having you here.”

“Who were you talking to?” Jaebum returns the question, deciding it’s pretty appropriate to start acting like a curious boyfriend. Or whatever the hell he is to Wang after the last night.

Jackson’s answer is a default lie. “Business stuff, you won’t be interested.”

“On a Saturday morning?”

“I’m a busy man. Only you, investors, can allow yourselves to have a five days long work week. And you’re too nosy.” Jackson sits on the bed next to him, giving him a quick peck on the lips, only reminding Jaebum how sick he actually feels. Maybe knocking himself out with alcohol wasn’t that great of a plan after all. “Speaking of business though… I have an unexpected business trip in around two weeks.”

Two weeks. Unexpected business trip. To Jaebum it can mean only so many things – the drug deal is probably starting to move around that time, so Wang is either moving together with the deal, or just searching for an alibi.

“So I just had this crazy idea,” Jackson continues, “Maybe you’d like to go together, have fun somewhere where we wouldn’t be limited only to hiding in ugly apartment buildings.”

“Where are you going?” Jaebum asks, already knowing he’s not going – he has countless excuses ready to be thrown, because he’s not that stupid to let Wang lure him out of the country without anyone keeping an eye on him.

However, Wang’s response leaves him breathless.

“Thailand.”

It takes a moment for it to sink in, the country’s name and realization that Jackson would be dragging him to a place where Jaebum most probably would go insane – and it makes him truly sick; he jumps from the bed and dashes to the bathroom to throw up, to get rid of the bitter burning pain inside him.

While Jackson’s pretty clueless, thinking it’s just the hangover thus not really paying much attention, Jaebum is sitting on the floor of his bathroom, trying to take deep breaths after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, clutching his phone he spotted on the floor on his way here and dialing the first phone number in his call log.

Mark’s voice is a little hoarse and tired when he picks up; it’s like as if he’d been still sleeping or least dozing off, however, his sleepiness soon goes away, when Jaebum whispers into his phone, “Come take me from here, _please_.”

It’s at that moment when Jaebum understands his answer to the questions he raised to himself yesterday.

No matter how strange everything was and how many unresolved issues they still have, he does trust Mark – after Ansan, he trusts Mark with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: writes a markbum fic  
> also me: how about... some jackbum smut :) 
> 
> anyhow, hello i'm like 85% graduated from uni, so i finally have time to write, so it's a mess; well, we at least have some markbum closure, and a possibly pending trip for jaebum to meet his past ghosts, oh boy. i hope you still will like this chapter though, omg.  
> actually i'm not sure when i'm gonna update next time - if i keep the pattern of updating every other week, the next update falls on the weekend when got7 is having their concert in paris, and i'm gonna be in paris too. so i probably won't really have neither the means nor the time to update, but i'm not sure if i'll have the strength to whip out another update for the upcoming week so excuse me, if you'll need to wait for another chapter a little longer :/ i'll try to figure something out
> 
> speaking of the paris concert though, if any of yall are gonna end up going to paris, hmu via twitter (@paradisebbom), maybe we could even become friends and hang out there, because i'm coming to the french land a few days before the actual concert. 
> 
> ANYWAY, i hope yall liked this mess, and comments are especially welcomed <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know those gifs of a running competition when someone just falls before the finish line and basically crawls to cross it? dat me trying to write an update for a 2nd week in a row. but i did it, so yall wouldn't need to suffer a month of my absence.
> 
> tws: there's some blood
> 
> in all honesty, blood tw is becoming a staple here, it's in almost every chapter

It’s as if Mark would’ve been waiting for this call to happen, as if he would’ve _expecting_ for something to go wrong, so he stayed somewhere very near. He doesn’t ask useless questions, they can wait – Mark shows up at Jackson’s apartment door in less than twenty minutes; Jaebum isn’t even dressed properly yet, in the middle of convincing Wang that he’s okay, when his phone rings again indicating that Mark is here to take him.

“I could drive you home myself.” Jackson says, and his voice is a little annoyed; warmth he’s been treating Jaebum with this entire morning is getting holes from the coldness once he meets Mark again. There’s no open passive aggressiveness though – it’s too much fuss for what Wang considers to be Jaebum being too lightweight and hungover. “There was no need for _him_ to show up.”

“It’s fine, darling.” Jaebum mumbles; even though cold sweat on his forehead is making him shiver like he’d have fever, there’s autopilot working in his head. And that autopilot is pre-programmed to suck up to Wang, because that’s his _job_ , even if the pleasant nickname isn’t and never will be genuine. “You’re busy and I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Wang looks like he’s about to roll his eyes – Jaebum’s words definitely sound like a line from a drama, but it also flatters him, he can’t deny. There’s a satisfied smile on his face, he thinks it’s even cute, getting a lover who’s so cutely alcohol intolerant, that’s definitely a first for him.

“Okay, baby boy. Call me when you get home, okay?”

Jaebum has never believed that words are really that powerful like everyone pretends it to be – sure, he knows words can cut, words can comfort, but he never expected words can make him physically sick, feeling like everything in his stomach is rising to his throat again.

However, that’s exactly what Wang’s words end up doing.

Mark, standing in the same corridor with them and waiting for Jaebum to get ready, doesn’t react to anything. His stare is stuck on the wooden floor as if he’d be trying to memorize the pattern; he lifts his eyes only when Jackson drags Jaebum closer for a goodbye kiss. The latter quickly turns away and Jackson’s lips land on his cheek instead – and while Jaebum keeps his eyes tightly shut, Mark’s eyes meet Jackson’s.

There’s something weird in those eyes, Mark decides, as he’s stubbornly staring back – some odd happiness, spitefulness one would show when they win over someone. He doesn’t know what to make of it though, when Wang smiles.

“You sure you really don’t want to stay?” Jackson asks one more time, this time with his arm around Jaebum’s waist.

Jaebum’s brain has already started messing with him; he already feels the tiredness kicking in and everything around him slows down and distances itself from him like he’d be slowly devoured by a bubble that’s his own mind. Only then Mark opens his mouth instead of him, “I think we should go now, Mr. Im.”

Wang looks at him with the same never changing smile like it would’ve been carved into his mouth forever; even Jaebum, although sick to his guts and disoriented, can feel shivers running down his spine when Jackson says, “As you wish, Tuan. I believe we’ll be seeing each other soon anyway. And iron your shirt next time, I don’t really fancy my boyfriend’s staff walking around looking like they just got out of a trash can.”

Mark has to bite his cheek in order to keep his mouth shut, but there’s a tinge of fear hitting his heart – words about seeing each other soon definitely don’t look like they’re directed at Jaebum for some reason.

Jaebum finally turns to go.

He’s so sick that he doesn’t even feel how wobbly his legs actually are and how all the way to the car Mark has to carefully navigate him through such obstacles as stairs by gently holding his wrist.

Jackson sees it when he’s looking at the parking lot through one of the windows in the apartment; he can only let out a laugh at the sight.

“You never let me sit in the front.” Jaebum mumbles once he’s finally settled in the passenger’s seat; he even chuckles and that’s the first time Mark hears someone laughing with such a dead laugh. Truth is, he doesn’t care where Jaebum is sitting, he probably would’ve let him sit on the roof of the car if only that meant he can get them both out of this district as soon as possible; Wang’s words are still echoing in his ears no matter how he tries to ignore it.

Jaebum never asks where his colleague is taking him – his eyelids are too heavy for him to stay awake and his lips are to stiff and dry to even open anymore. He dozes off almost immediately while listening Tuan asking him whether Wang could’ve pulled something funny with Jaebum’s drinks or food.

He would laugh at it, if Jaebum wouldn’t feel too lazy to even let out a sound of some sorts – it’s not Jackson, not entirely, it’s not even the alcohol which is undoubtedly still in his body. It’s just _him_ , hearing a name of a familiar country and bursting into thousands of shards again and again, trying to pick those shards up to glue them together but ending up getting cut open anyway. It’s just his _brain_ , retreating into defense mode against himself, trying to shut down so he wouldn’t nitpick and force himself to relive everything again.

Jaebum opens his eyes a few times during the ride – the first time, he sees a supermarket and an empty driver’s seat, the next time he catches Mark staring at him when they’re stuck at a red light somewhere. Mark’s gaze is soft and a little concerned, but before Jaebum can say something, a green light comes up and he dozes off again.

The third time he’s dragged out of his lethargy is when Mark shakes his shoulder because they reached their destination. It’s not Jaebum’s apartment building, that’s for sure – their personal information is so secured by NIS, Mark wouldn’t even get the address – it’s not the headquarters, either. It’s some sort of an apartment complex a bit farther from the city center, it’s quieter here and the rent is less expensive.

It’s probably where Mark lives, Jaebum’s fuzzy mind decides after getting off the car, surprisingly more awake and aware of his surroundings. He’s never questioned it, he didn’t really care about where the entire CIA team, let alone Mark, is living during their stay in Korea. Jaebum expected for all of them to be shoved into the dorms NIS had, so it has never crossed his mind that Mark would have a whole flat for himself.

When Jaebum sets his foot there, it turns out to be a small apartment in eleventh floor. It’s tiny – one bedroom-slash-living room, a kitchen and a small bathroom, but seeing thin layers of dust starting to pile up and still unpacked bundles of clothes and other things here and there, Jaebum decides it’s just enough for a person who obviously comes back here only to sleep.

Jaebum feels like after the encounter with Wang he suddenly doesn’t know how to proceed with his life, his head is so heavy and he’s so, so overwhelmed and confused about everything – perhaps that’s why he doesn’t really realize nor mind Mark bossing him around, giving him a bunch of towels and pointing somewhere further down he corridor.

_Shower. Yes, he can take a shower here. He needs one._

It feels ridiculously foreign, to be in a bathroom of someone else – Jaebum’s not used to that. The only two bathrooms he’s ever used that aren’t his own are his parents’ and sometimes Jinyoung’s; Jaebum’s a loner, a homebody – he never had tons of friends to go out with and sleep at their places, and the ones he did have never stuck around for too long because of his insane working hours and the nature of his work, which Jaebum couldn’t even tell them.

He lets warm water fall on his naked shoulders; in a way, it feels like spring downpours he always saw in his hometown when he was a kid. Eventually though, seeing the weirdly bluish lines coloring the water and going down the drain – his black hair dye finally starting to come off a bit by bit – Jaebum remembers he’s not a child anymore.

What he’s doing now isn’t children’s play anymore and the thought of it makes him feel dirty, it makes him remember Wang’s hands on his skin, a body against another body; no matter how hard Jaebum tries to scrub this feeling off his skin to the point it burns, nothing changes – perhaps, he only smells more of Mark’s shower gel, so he gives up.

He’s good at that, giving up on himself.

“I probably ruined your towels.” Jaebum mumbles later, when he finds Mark in the kitchen putting groceries into his fridge – so the stop by a supermarket wasn’t a dream.

Mark only smiles a little at the guy guiltily showing his once white towels; now they’re stained with the same bits of hair dye, but his heart beats heavily not because the stains will be a pain in the ass to get out of the fabric. “Throw them somewhere, I’ll take care of it. Hungry?”

Jaebum shakes his head, but he feels thankful, sitting in front of the American at the kitchen table. Thankful because Mark isn’t ripping apart the wounds Jaebum has, he isn’t questioning even though he’s not dumb, he sees that something is wrong, and it’s not necessarily related to Wang and this mission.

It’s a little ironic, because two weeks ago they probably wouldn’t have agreed to stay in the same place for longer than a briefing session lasts.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Jaebum asks. His throat is parched, as if the wine he drank yesterday would still be burning his entire body dry. Mark nods, telling him where to find cups.

There’s not much to talk about as Mark doesn’t want to pressure him into talking about what happened last night; there’s nothing much to do either, so Mark tells him he can go to sleep a little bit more if he wants, because it seems like Jaebum is dozing off again. Mark’s bedsheets are baby blue, and it almost makes Jaebum laugh a little.

He doesn’t think he’ll really fall asleep though, because the more he tries to bury his face into the pillow Mark gave him, the more his brain rewinds all of the conversations and events of the recent days.

The sound of Mark tapping the keyboard of his laptop in the kitchen while doing some research as he gave Jaebum privacy slowly blurs and mixes into a cacophony of voices and images in his head as Jaebum is drifting away; there’s Jackson kissing him, there’s Mark humming some American song on their way to the restaurant; there’s—

 

_There’s Bambam._

_It’s their first outing outside the office as a team, some sort of team building activity nobody really wanted at first. Not that any of the four guys disliked each other – they were just tired from work, but in the end, they ended up loving it, especially Yugyeom._

_This particular kid needed a friend the most, needed someone who would understand the burden of being barely of legal age and already bearing such responsibilities to the country with a workplace like that. Perhaps that’s why Bambam and Yugyeom clicked especially well and fast – at first, they were a little shy and awkward around each other, but with every said word they found more and more in common._

_“Do you think I made a good choice picking him?” Jaebum asks Jinyoung. They’re walking a little behind the two guys, all four of them tipsy if not full-on drunk, as they’re fooling around and yelling nonsense, taking a late evening walk in some park near the Han River instead of going home._

_“Why? Are you doubting something?” Jinyoung asks back, but the he decides that his question is a bit ridiculous. It’s Jaebum – he_ always _has doubts about everything, himself included, even though he usually never shows it. “To be honest… I was surprised at first.”_

_“Surprised?”_

_“Nobody really expected you to return with someone like Bambam as an addition to our division.” Jinyoung slowly says, trying to put his words in the right way. “You know what everyone talks about you. They expected your team to consist of piles of muscles, gun experts, and such. The fact that you chose Bambam out of all people was a little… underwhelming for some higher-ups. They were planning to make this division elite or something.”_

_Jaebum knows. He knows about these plans and what was expected from him; and he knows just as well that from the first sight his team really could come off as underwhelming. There’s Jinyoung, he entered NIS a year later than Jaebum, who’s not particularly good at physical tasks; there’s Yugyeom who’s not yet sure what is he doing in this organization other than constantly infecting their laptops with viruses. Bambam isn’t the textbook agent material either, Jaebum is aware of this all – but he also knows_ why _he picked them over all the other people._

_Jinyoung, despite his sarcastic and strict surface, is kind and patient – and it makes him a great at negotiations, they can be sure nothing is going to be done in a rash manner. Yugyeom is still a little clueless about life, but him being so naïve is what allows them to look at things from another perspective, to find the missing bits they would probably never notice without him. And Bambam… Bambam is smart, street smart if you will, he easily finds his way in even when all the literal and figurative doors and windows are closed._

_Perhaps that’s how he quickly finds his way into Jaebum’s heart as well._

_“Don’t overthink it, hyung.” Jinyoung adds. “I trust you to know what you’re doing, and you’re a great teacher anyway. You’ll do as well in teaching Bambam all he needs to know as you did with me and Yugyeom. There really are a lot of things I should be thankful for.”_

_Jaebum’s lips curve into a warm smile for a second before his facial expression changes into a disgusted one as he’s punching Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Don’t get all sappy with me now. Gross.”_

_Bambam starts dancing to some girl group tune Yugyeom’s blasting from his phone in the middle of the street; Jaebum without even questioning what he’s doing bolts to the kid, dragging him away from the passing cars to the safe pavement. He’s laughing though, and a few moments later joins in with his ridiculous dance moves._

_Two years ago, Jaebum was happy._

_Two years ago he didn’t know that his mistake wasn’t picking Bambam; it was something else less obvious._

It’s already starting to get dark outside when Jaebum opens his eyes, still seeing Bambam in front of him. He sighs, realizing it’s just a dream once again and rubs his eyes – he doesn’t feel much rested or less tense; but at least he slept and that doesn’t happen often nowadays. His head also hurts less, and when he sits up, he notices Mark peeking his head into the room to check up on him.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up?” Mark says, looking a little flustered for getting caught. He’s finally changed his clothes – the suit he was wearing before is changed into sweatpants and some dark sweater. “I just wanted to—”

“I was already awake.”

In a way, it feels similar to how it would feel having a roommate – Jaebum gets out of the bed to help Mark with the dinner, because the latter’s a little too firm on Jaebum staying over. Mark is a tragic cook and Jaebum is pretty decent, so it evens things out. They start watching a random movie while munching on their fried rice and vegetables.

But in the world Jaebum and Mark live in, roommates probably don’t have a gun in a suitcase like Mark does, and they probably talk a lot more than the two guys do, sharing a comfortable silence. At some point, Jaebum’s arm freezes midway to his mouth when he’s shuffling through the channels and sees Wang’s face in a variety show’s preview.

“I’m not sure if it’s okay to bring it up—” Mark starts.

“You already are, so just say what you want to.” Jaebum responds putting his plate away, even though it’s still half full.

A heavy sigh escapes Mark’s lips, like he would’ve thought about this a lot, but in the end, he says something Jaebum doesn’t expect to hear. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“This mission was CIA idea for the most part.”

Jaebum has heard the gossip, it always spreads too quickly. And rumor has it that CIA didn’t want to sacrifice their employees for this fuckery, so some higher-ups got involved, as well as some pressure from above on international level, and the entire responsibility fell of NIS’s shoulders. Mark actually tried to make it at least a bit fair by offering to battle it out with Jaebum in the shooting range, but that’s all his own protocol allowed him to do.

Jaebum doesn’t accept the apology, nor does he tell Mark to stop feeling sorry because that’s just how things work in this field. He simply lies back down on the pillows as they didn’t bother to make the bed and stares at the ceiling. Mark follows soon after, and Jaebum thinks how sad it actually is that at this moment, they don’t have anyone else in this mess but themselves and each other.

“They recruited me on the streets.” Mark loudly says, and Jaebum turns his head a little, so he could he see the guy better. Mark’s eyes are closed, and he looks so, so tired. “I was supposed to try out for a local police academy in Los Angeles and there was this shooting range I often visited to practice. One day, some woman told me I have a nice aim and that it would be a pity to waste it, so I should apply for another place. I was just out of school, stupid, of course I got interested. Three days later I was already signing my training contract, a year later I became an agent, still convinced it’s going to be similar to those action movies on TV.”

Unfortunately, their work, although romanticized often, isn’t a fairytale where everyone gets to live happily ever after; sometimes people don’t even get to _live_ , they both are aware of this.

Jaebum has no clue why Mark is telling him all this though, but he doesn’t interrupt. It’s kind of nice, being able to talk about such mundane things like ruined towels, lunch, dinner, recruitment stories – that way they don’t need to talk about Wang and last night. They can save it for tomorrow’s briefing.

Turns out, Mark has two sisters, a brother and two little nieces; words are spilling out of Mark’s lips a little too fluently for it to be natural and Jaebum understands. Mark doesn’t know him that well, so it’s a trial and error – the American thinks he needs to fill the silence up with something to get Jaebum distracted.

He’s wrong though, and actually, the moment Mark finally runs out of words and stories to tell becomes the point where they become the most comfortable. The only source of light and sound in the room is some imported drama still airing on TV, and it makes Jaebum the calmest he’s been today without any unnecessary words and forced interactions.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but when he spares a glimpse at Mark again, the latter is sleeping, eyebrows furrow and lips sleepily moving as if he’d be talking with someone in his dream.

Jaebum wants to thank him, this time he’s really genuine about it, but decides not to – perhaps it’s not even needed. So he only makes sure Mark has a chunk of the blanket which they came to share big enough not to get cold. Then he rolls away from him, looking at the moon shining through the windows as neither of them bothered to draw the curtains – it looks a little red, but Jaebum isn’t surprised.

Everything’s blood colored lately, and that’s not about to change anytime soon.

 

“So we have only around two weeks to prepare for this operation?” Yugyeom asks next afternoon when Jaebum is finally back to the headquarters.

He woke up first that morning, face buried into one of Mark’s pillows and having slept decent hours for the first time in a while; he saw Mark’s forehead frowning when he started fidgeting to get out of the bed. Jaebum left first too, leaving a short note about where he is on a green post-it he found – then he returned home to change his clothes before the briefing, which was scheduled for 2 PM.

However, now it’s 2:30 PM and Mark is still not here, Jaebum finds it both strange and not very surprising at the same time. It’s a strange day to begin with – the clouds of mid-September are making the sky turn bluish grey due to an upcoming storm, leaving everyone around feeling eerily stuffy. The fact that Jaebum realizes he wasn’t followed around by any cars today makes it even stranger.

“More or less. Wang is leaving in two weeks, so the deal probably will be happening after he’s out of the country and will be managed by his people.” Jaebum makes a guess. “Doing the dirty and running away then would be too obvious.”

“He _is_ too obvious all the time.” Jinyoung mumbles, tapping his fingers against the surface of the desk he’s sitting at. “There must be a catch behind this, it doesn’t make sense.”

One of the CIA guys shrugs. “Maybe it’s exactly what he wants everyone to think. That nothing makes sense, but in the end, he is moving around with his deals freely, because we’re too busy thinking there’s something behind it.”

That’s more than possible – Wang is smart, he’d definitely be able to come up with a scheme like this; most of the time, the true geniuses turn out to be the most simple-minded people after all. However, Jaebum for a while strays away from the details about the upcoming operations. “What will happen if we manage to catch him red handed?”

Jinyoung is aware of what Jaebum is really asking, but he only sighs in response, not able to give the answer his friend wants to hear. “Nothing. We have yet to find out if there’s someone’s backing him or not and if there is, we won’t win anything by arresting Wang right away, only scare the potential criminals behind him off. You’re going to need to stick with him for some time.”

Jaebum has to look away for a while, to wrap his head around the fact that he’s not escaping Wang, but when he finally looks up, everything’s back to normal, _too_ normal for it to be healthy – with facial expressions intact and completely clear of any devastation when he addresses Yugyeom.

“Dig through everything you can find about Wang’s relations with he board of the Fencing Federation. Whenever he talks about it, it looks like there’s some anger and contempt left. Mistreatment, conflicts, anything.”

“You think fencing is related to this entire thing?” Jinyoung asks.

“I don’t know.” Jaebum sighs. “But so far we have nothing else to base it on. Did anyone do a background check on that Youngjae guy?”

It’s Peters who lifts her hear this time – Mark has mentioned once that their side will be helping with the investigation as well, so that all the responsibility wouldn’t fall only on Yugyeom, Jinyoung and Jaebum. “There’s nothing much about him. Met Wang when he was fifteen during some fencing championship, Choi was some kind of a volunteer to help the participants around. Wang apparently took a liking to him and that’s it. That’s all I managed to find out.”

There’s no such thing as simply “take a liking” to someone when it comes to Wang, Jaebum is sure – he can almost guarantee Choi Youngjae had something seventeen year old Jackson needed at that time, or at least had a potential to become someone Wang will need in the future. So he sighs again, knowing that from now on he’ll need to keep an eye not on one, but two people at once, even though he has no idea how.

“The trip though…” Yugyeom says, a little absentmindedly, quickly typing memos for himself into his laptop; perhaps that’s why he doesn’t really pick his words that carefully. “We probably could make use of it, to be honest. Where is it, again?”

“Thailand.” Jaebum reminds him, feeling how the words get stuck in his throat; the name of the country at this point being just as powerful of a trigger as Bambam’s name would be. Jinyoung tries not to look at him, Yugyeom eyes look like it’s made of glass. CIA team doesn’t notice anything suspicious about this silence.

If at first Jaebum was absolutely sure he’s not going anywhere with Jackson, after hearing the destination he doesn’t know anything anymore. It’s like his mind would’ve divided itself into two – the first part, the more rational one is yelling at him to not even think about it, as he’s on the verge of losing his sane mind already. This trip can very much be a trap for him and the entire team at the best case scenario, and something so traumatizing, Jaebum simply won’t be able to recover from anymore at the worst.

But there’s another part of him, the one that tries to lure him into thinking it might not be a bad idea after all – he’s going to be around Jackson more, he’ll get to see places where Bambam grew up in. If he acts smartly, he might even have a few moments to visit the place where his colleague and friend is buried in.

He dismisses the briefing shortly after, with everyone leaving in loud and happy chatter, because it’s about time to finally get lunch before getting back to their tasks. Jaebum stays to work on papers; it’s ridiculous how many reports he has to write almost every day, describing every single move he took over the last two days – everything has to be strictly protocoled and justified as a needed measure for the task he’s carrying out.

The remainder of the day is passing just like that – slowly, sluggishly and heavily, because it’s still cloudy and stuffy, making everyone and everything around lethargic; even the birds Jaebum can see through a window are flying somehow slower and less gracefully.

Slowly, one by one, his coworkers start to pack their things and go home, it starts raining – big, heavy drops mercilessly drumming into windowsills of the building. Jaebum stays, he doesn’t have anyone to rush home to.

Jackson texts him a few times, being offended that Jaebum didn’t contact him at all after getting back home. He says he was worried and Jaebum types a backhanded apology to him, excusing himself with the fact that he basically slept the entire day yesterday and today he’s a little busy, because work is hell – it’s not even a lie; Jaebum sometimes gets surprised how little he needs to lie during this mission.

Wang offers him to meet up tomorrow for a quick lunch break before he heads out to China for an interview and a photoshoot. Jaebum at least knows these schedules are real, so he agrees, already despising the meeting and those few heart emoticons he forces himself to send.

Jackson is satisfied and Jaebum puts his phone away from himself as far as possible.

Not so soon after the lightning finally strikes, coloring the dim briefing room ghostly blue and Jaebum flinches. Not only because of the thunderstorm, but also because he sees someone passing by through the glass walls of the briefing room. At first, he thinks it’s one of the last workers of this side of the building going home because it’s way past 8 PM already, but one careful look and he recognizes a familiar blonde mop of hair.

Jaebum also realizes that something’s very, very wrong.

He catches Mark almost in the end of the corridor, when the older agent has to lean against the wall to keep himself on his feet; Jaebum grabs his arm only for him to see red on his fingers. Mark’s white shirt under a black suit jacket is stained with blood all over, just as his face.

Jaebum freezes, still clutching Mark’s arm, before the latter opens his mouth to tell a heavy, requiring too much effort, “Wang sent his people after me today, he thinks we’re secretly dating or something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes. when jaebum told jackson's is dangerous because he finds wrong links between events, he wasn't joking around. 
> 
> anyhow, i hope you all liked at least the markbum closure, I TRIED. my trash can sister Ahn, if you're reading this, i'm SORRY - i KNOW i said i'm gonna spare your asthma by toning down the angst levels, but... it was Needed For The Plot. things will be getting better, i promise... in chapter 553, at this rate. 
> 
> as always, comments are always super welcomed, i love to read what you guys think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we don't even have tws on this chapter, do you see the progress

They’re slowly working on their way of dealing with things together, Mark and Jaebum – and their way is silence.

They’re silent after Jaebum suggests Mark to go to a hospital to get checked and the older agent shakes his head thinking it’s not necessary; they’re silent when Jaebum, one arm around Mark’s waist for support, helps him go to one of the briefing rooms. Jaebum is silent when he goes through all the shelves stacked with documents in search for a first-aid kit. Mark is silent when Jaebum looks at him, waiting for him to take his clothes off.

Jaebum’s hands are warm, but Mark flinches upon the touch nevertheless. It takes a while for both of them to get used to being so intimate with each other, even though neither of them considers it intimacy – just one colleague trying to treat another’s wounds as a thankful gesture for last night. Scratches and cuts on Mark’s usually soft skin start to sting as Jaebum carefully wipes blood and dirt off with a cotton pad, but both of them still keep silent.

Some spots are starting to bruise on Mark’s back and chest, and the bruises around Mark’s ribcage somehow reminds of a map; a very fucked up map made from purple and red patches. Jaebum doesn’t know what causes him to look away for a few times, he’s seen beat up bodies, a lot of them – and eventually his brain creates a link that says it’s because it's his fault.

In Jaebum’s head, Mark got hurt because of him – they ended up in a team together because no one thought Jaebum is capable of doing this on his own; Jaebum wasn’t careful enough and let Wang see through holes of Mark’s disguise, letting the man create absurd theories about them dating.

“How did it happen?” Jaebum asks, trying to make the voices in his head shut up. He doesn’t look Mark in the eyes, simply continuing doing his job by tending to the number of wounds, which, surprisingly aren’t that severe or nasty – but they both know why.

It’s only a warning, an interlude to what’s going to happen if they don’t play according to Wang’s rules. That’s the only reason why he didn’t go all out, why the hits Mark received, even though nasty and made to hurt as much as possible, aren’t deadly.

“They were following me around today, ever since I left home to go to the briefing.” Mark replies after a short hiss, because one particular cut hurts a lot more than others. “They chased me all the way throughout the city, but I thought I’ll be able to get rid of them if I leave my car in this rarely used parking lot in Nowon and disappear into a crowd in the nearest subway station, but Wang’s people are smart. They surrounded me in some alleyway, it’s shady and full of drunks and homeless people, so passersby probably thought it’s just another street fight. Nobody really paid any attention nor tried to help me out.”

Jaebum lets a sigh escape his lips. So typical of people – minding only their own business even if they see a person being attacked on the street in the middle of the day. But then again, he thinks, perhaps he doesn’t really have a right to judge them; Jaebum himself isn’t sure he would be able to help someone right now, no matter how much they’re hurting.

It’s hard to help others when you can’t even help yourself.

“How do you know those were Wang’s people?” Jaebum is disinfecting the wounds on Marks back at the moment, so after that question, Mark turns around to look at him rather incredulously. Or at least he would look at Jaebum like that, if his face, slowly filling up with bruises and with a cut lip, would be able to express emotions without pain. “It’s not like I don’t believe you,” Jaebum mumbles, taking yet another bandage. “It’s just that we’ll have to report this to the higher-ups and they always need a damn proof.”

“They didn’t even hide it. There were three or four of them, saying that Jackson wishes me a good day and kindly asks to fuck off, because he’s not used to sharing. Wang’s childish in a way, isn’t he?” Mark chuckles, but the sound of it is forced.

Jaebum doesn’t think so, not at all.

In his eyes, Jackson Wang is anything but childish – he’s smart and territorial. He’s dangerous, and most importantly, Jackson is cruel when he feels wronged; and that’s exactly how he feels now with his dangerously dumb conclusions – Mark wronged him by allegedly dating Jaebum, and that’s only the beginning of the outcome.

“He asked me about you, during our first meeting.” Jaebum admits, throwing yet another bloody cotton pad into a trash can he eventually puts near himself, so it would be more convenient to get rid of the trash. “When you got caught by Youngjae, he asked for your last name.”

If Mark gets surprised about it, he doesn’t show it. “Figured he would.” He says, but doesn’t elaborate, and Jaebum doesn’t push. He finds it odd, yes, but things have been odd for a while now – and he trusts Mark enough to know, or at least hope, that if it was anything important he’d definitely say it immediately.

“Anyway,” Mark changes the topic. “This all wasn’t for nothing at least, I got some information Peters couldn’t find out.”

“She was working on information about Choi Youngjae, wasn’t she?” Jaebum frowns a little in confusion, now softly running his fingers through Mark’s face to see if all the bones are really intact. Basic medical training they all get as agents sometimes really does come in handy. And it barely feels awkward this time, those delicate and soft touches of Jaebum, trying to be extra sure that he’s not causing Mark more pain than he feels now.

“Yes, she was.” Mark confirms, feeling Jaebum’s fingers brushing against his cheek. “But she couldn’t find anything, because apparently there are some catches.”

“Like what?”

Mark takes his time before replying, mostly because Jaebum is treating a nasty cut on his lips and it hurts so, so bad – he doesn’t even realize how his hand automatically grabs onto the nearest object – and that’s Jaebum’s leg, because the latter sits down on another chair right in front of him, so it would be more comfortable.

Jaebum doesn’t say anything about that; he doesn’t even frown, even though Mark’s nails digging into his skin hurt a little.

“A lot of information was announced publicly unavailable once his mother got remarried when Choi was fourteen, I think. Maybe fifteen at most.” Mark starts his story from quite afar and Jaebum’s hand stops midway, now awkwardly hanging in the air between them. There aren’t a lot of cases when certain information can be announced publicly unavailable according to a law. Witness programs, certain articles of minor protection laws— “By that time his stepdad was a politician, working in the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, Hong Kyungwan. After the marriage Choi got a lot of his personal information classified on the grounds of being related to the government.”

The name rings a few bells, Hong Kyungwan. Jaebum thinks he’s definitely heard it somewhere, and when he finally remembers, his eyes go wide and Mark nods.

“Yes. Soon after the marriage wasn’t re-elected anymore and became the head of the National Fencing Federation of South Korea. Wang belonged to the national team at the same time.”

So Jaebum probably wasn’t wrong about Jackson not being so simple to only innocently “take a liking” to the boy named Choi Youngjae. There was something more, something Wang thought to be useful.

“Jackson doesn’t seem like he has a lot of warm memories about the Federation.” He slowly says, feeling how his brain is working at full speed in attempt to process the possible links between all these seemingly unrelated people. “It’s not confirmed yet, I didn’t get this far, but it seems like they didn’t give a shit about him until he started bringing in the medals, and he’s still bitter about it.”

“Is it possible that Wang is using Youngjae for some fucked up revenge scheme that’s going on for the last ten years?” Mark mumbles, but he knows as much as Jaebum does, and that’s almost nothing.

“Youngjae might be a co-owner of that modelling agency for a reason.” Jaebum says. “If shit with taxes went down, it probably would go down only in Youngjae’s side and Jackson would be clean, I can bet. Just that I don’t understand what he would get from that, asides some public humiliation about Hong’s stepson being a tax criminal, but that’s nowhere near serious revenge to Hong directly.”

“Would Wang be this obvious with the tax scheme?”

Jaebum looks at him, wiping the last bits of blood from his eyebrow. “He isn’t really the most subtle one, is he. I’ll try to get my hands on their documents sometime soon if I can – if we won’t be able to find any fraud in Jackson’s side, but we’ll find some in Youngjae’s, we at least will be able to confirm this theory is possible.” Mark tries to oppose, putting his shirt back on now that his upper body is all covered in bandages and ointments to treat wounds and saying he can do that himself, but Jaebum is strict. “No. First, you can’t be caught anymore. Second, you’re going to take a few days off. I’m not letting you work like that.”

For a second it looks like Mark will start arguing; heck, Jaebum knows he himself would, already preparing to say the same _my department my rules_ Jinyoung loves to repeat to him. But Mark only sighs after a few seconds, as if deciding it’s not worth fighting about this. “Are there any news about Wang? I skipped the last briefing and we didn’t talk about it last night, so I’m quite… clueless.”

Jaebum unknowingly accepts Mark’s pleas to trust and be honest with him; he explains what happened in the restaurant, he even lets Mark understand he really slept with Jackson that night – something he conveniently skipped during the briefing in the afternoon and nobody asked him about it. Mark doesn’t judge, he doesn’t look grossed out or wary of Jaebum, knowing that he slept with a guy who can make his subordinates beat someone up in a blink of an eye. He only keeps listening, concentrated but warm nevertheless stare focused on Jaebum, who’s now telling him about Wang’s invitation to go to Thailand together.

“But Thailand…” Mark trails off. “Isn’t it…”

“It is.”

Jaebum’s voice isn’t cold this time, unlike every other time Bambam gets mentioned. It sounds tired if anything, exhausted by endless pondering over whether he should risk everything, and most importantly, his sane mind, going or whether he should stay in Korea. Usually, Jaebum’s sense of responsibility is always stronger than his emotions, so under any other circumstances he’d already be packing his suitcases, but this time his mind at least tries to make an effort to save him from an upcoming disaster.

“Are you going?”

Jaebum doesn’t answer immediately, and then he comes up with the most honest answer can he possibly think of at that moment. “I don’t know, depends on what’s going to happen. This time next week I might not even be here anymore.”

“Medical evaluations?”

“Medical evaluations.”

Mark would be lying if he told he’s never noticed – it’s right in front of everyone who’s willing enough to lift their heads and see what Jaebum looks like these days. Not _look_ at Jaebum, because from the first _look_ he’s alright. Sure, maybe he’s a little bit tired and grumpy, an asshole a little, but who wouldn’t be while carrying out a mission like this?

However, Mark doesn’t _look_. He _sees_ , and what he sees doesn’t make him happy.

He often notices Jaebum’s empty stare looking at the void in front of him, when his mind travels somewhere far, far away from NIS headquarters; Mark sees the toll sleepless nights are taking on him, he notices the younger agent’s sometimes hoarse voice as if Jaebum would’ve been yelling or crying the entire night.

He knows the backstory – the key points, at least – and he’s never been too dumb to add two and two together. Mark is aware of Jaebum’s mental condition, even though everyone around refuses to admit it as long as he gets the job done right.

“What will happen if you don’t pass?” Mark asks, silently.

“I don’t know.” Jaebum shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. “Perhaps Jinyoung will take my place in this mission, I don’t know. It won’t be for me to decide.”

“Are you afraid?”

It’s this question that makes Jaebum look at his colleague with poorly hidden surprise in his eyes. He understands what Mark is asking, Mark is perceptive like that – of course, Jaebum feels uneasy working on this mission; however, he’s more afraid of losing the only distraction he has, and that’s work.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jaebum says, taking the first-aid kit to put it back to where it belongs. “Be afraid, pretend it’s not going to happen, laugh at it – it won’t change anything. I either stay or go, and until that, I’m assigned to this show, so I have to act. That’s what I’m here for, aren’t I?”

However, he’s just a twenty-five year old guy, who still hasn’t learned how to be cruel enough to kill off all the emotions in himself, so his voice cracks a little, showing Mark his vulnerable side.

Mark is careful, he doesn’t want to scare Jaebum off this time, so the latter at first doesn’t even understand why he asks, “Can I?” before nodding automatically, not even knowing what he’s in for.

That’s a hug.

Awkward, out of the blue – but a warm hug nevertheless. It’s not pitying, what Jaebum is thankful for; it’s only comforting and saying that even though they’re deep in shit, it’s okay. It happens sometimes, and sometimes it even has a happy ending.

Jaebum isn’t really that comfortable around Mark yet, but he appreciates it; he appreciates the fact that Mark is going through hell with him and isn’t backing away. The hug must hurt a lot for Mark’s beat up body, but he doesn’t let out a sound.

 

Jaebum can still feel the hug on his skin the next day, when precisely at 1 PM he’s trying to make his way through a bunch of other white-collars in a restaurant Wang is supposed to be meeting him for quick lunch. Mark’s touch still burns his skin and cuts through his bones even after Jaebum last night took him home with Mark joking about how the tables have turned with Jaebum being his driver now.

Jaebum smiles a little remembering this, but his jaw soon clenches, reminding him that he has to face the inevitable – but he actually doesn’t.

At a table, the one Wang reserved, sits Choi Youngjae, with a cup of iced Americano next to himself, looking like he’s both bored and done with everything when Jaebum sits in front of him, casually asking where’s Jackson.

“He’s going to be late.” Youngjae says after a polite bow, but his voice is cold, even colder than Jaebum remembers it being during their first encounter. He isn’t even hiding his stare at Youngjae – if anything, he’ll only come off as a rich jerk who looks down on staff – Jaebum can’t help but wonder why a stepson of someone pretty influential would agree to become an assistant for some sportsman turned variety star. “Jackson said he doesn’t want to keep you waiting alone, so he sent me to keep you company.”

 _To keep me company or to watch me_ , Jaebum wants to ask, but only orders a cup of coffee instead. “That’s very nice of him.” He notes though, searching for any kind of reaction – and that reaction surprises him, because Youngjae scoffs.

“He sure is nice.” The guy says, checking the time in his phone. Jackson is late by ten minutes. “I didn’t expect anything else when you have him wrapped around your finger like that, you know.”

Jaebum looks him directly in the eyes, not really sure where this conversation is going, and why it’s happening in the first place. “Is there anyone who could wrap a person like Jackson around their finger though?” He asks. The atmosphere feels weird, sitting here with Youngjae and exchanging some vague phrases; those phrases are harmless on the outside, but Jaebum can never be too sure of what they mean to Youngjae and whether it will eventually reach Wang.

“You’re smart.” Youngjae approvingly nods. He barely blinks, bravely staring back and it’s a little unsettling, like he would be challenging Jaebum for something. But eventually everything clicks and there’s a link between his words, making Jaebum feel stupid for not thinking about such an obvious thing before. It’s the bitterness in Youngjae’s voice that gives him away, the tiredness in his eyes, when he says, “Smarter than the other ones Jackson had, at least.”

“The other ones?”

“If you thought you’re the only one whom Jackson has ever fucked, I have some bad news to break to you.”

Jaebum is okay at acting. Maybe that’s why him sounding like an offended and jealous lover is almost convincing. “Are you also one of the _other ones_?”

“I’m not.” Youngjae says after a pause. “Over the years I learned how to enjoy… the small things.”

At this point of conversation, it’s clear to Jaebum that Youngjae is whipped, smitten, terribly in love or whatever other description you’d love to pin on him in this situation. That’s why he’s a great target if Jackson’s end goal is really ruining the Fencing Federation or at least the head of it. A guy in love is dangerous, he’s ready to make a fool out of himself and sacrifice everything – and in Youngjae’s case it probably will be family.

“You both are having a great time here, I see.” Jaebum almost jumps from his seat hearing Jackson’s voice behind himself; the sarcasm in his words is way too obvious, because there’s a deadly silence at the table. The silence rings in Jaebum’s ears and resonates across the quite packed place too loudly, especially when Wang leans in to sneak a quick peck on Jaebum’s lips – secretly, so no one would notice. Youngjae stands up to leave. “You won’t join us for lunch?” Jackson adds casually, however, Jaebum has trouble imagining he’s clueless about what’s happening.

“I have some things to take care of.” Youngjae shakes his head, fixing his suit jacket. “See you after you come back from Beijing.”

“He’s not going to China with you?” Jaebum asks, when the guy is finally gone, and Jackson is shuffling through the menu a little too flirty waitress brings him, torn between whether to ask for an autograph or not.

“Why would he?”

“He’s your assistant. Don’t you need one there too?”

“I’m able to give an interview without him peeking over my shoulder, don’t worry.” Jackson laughs, deciding that he’s going to order only a glass of juice, because he doesn’t feel like eating anything before a photoshoot. “Let’s move onto more interesting themes instead of him, though.”

Jaebum is prepared to hear some standard questions about where he’s been; maybe even Jackson asking if he feels better after the catastrophe in his apartment after their date. But Wang takes another course, the same eerie smile playing on his lips when he says, “By the way, it’s refreshing not seeing your bodyguard following us around. Where is he?”

The gulp of coffee Jaebum took a few moments ago gets stuck in his throat, almost making him choke. It’s surprising a little, that Wang isn’t even hiding anymore – he knows that Jaebum knows what happened and who’s behind it, it’s just a game. It’s just an attempt to show off power and tell that if Jaebum got himself involved, he’s going to have to stay here in the end, or else.

That _or else_ is scaring Jaebum, but he’s keeps his act on; he doesn’t bat an eyelash saying, “He’s on a sick leave, got into a fight with someone or something. Perhaps trying to weasel out of work, I don’t know. I’m planning to fire him soon anyway.”

Jackson is quite satisfied with the last sentence at least, approvingly humming to Jaebum’s words and absentmindedly shuffling through his phone – and it’s a little ironic, the way Jackson is ignoring him after everything he pulled with Mark yesterday.

But Jaebum also knows there are two reasons for that. First – privacy; it’s a public place and the public doesn’t need to know about their affair yet. Second, it’s obvious Wang wants Jaebum to try his best to catch his attention – and that’s exactly what Jaebum isn’t planning on doing. He’s aware of how Wang works, and he knows Jackson appreciates things he has to put effort into getting.

“Oh.” Jackson suddenly mumbles, and Jaebum can see he’s scrolling through some news site.

“What is it?”

“A person I know from a variety show I was in a few years ago.” Jackson says, and only then Jaebum realizes that Wang is in the criminal news section of the website. “Got himself into trouble.”

Jaebum is completely disinterested in Wang’s variety show friends, but still opens his mouth, because silence is getting on his nerves. “What happened?”

“Got caught up in a marijuana deal. What a shame, he had a great head on his shoulders. I never knew he’s into shit like that.”

Jaebum’s head snaps back to Jackson, as he was looking around before, sensing a good opportunity to innocently ask a few not so innocent questions without looking overly suspicious. “Marijuana?” He repeats, trying to pick his words as carefully as possible. “Isn’t the entertainment industry stuffed with drugs anyway?”

“Even more than you can imagine.” Jackson nods, with an unreadable expression on his face, turning the news app off. “But that doesn’t mean everyone has to try it.”

“Have you ever—”

“No.” Jackson’s answer is strict, interrupting before Jaebum finishes his sentence. “I hate this kind of stuff. Besides, there are better ways to mess with someone’s brain, you don’t even need to get high.”

Jaebum feels confused. Of course, he’s heard about stuff like this, the local drug dealers actually being clean themselves while selling it to others; but the way Jackson speaks about it, the way his voice is drenched with contempt and disapproval is somehow genuine – if “genuine” can ever be used to describe anything coming from Wang’s mouth.

_If he hates it so much, then why on earth there are drug deals happening in his own house? What is he trying to achieve?_

“Anyway, let’s go back to more cheerful discussions before I leave, I have only about thirty more minutes before I need to go to the airport.” Jackson smiles. “Have you thought about that trip to Thailand I told you about, baby boy?”

Jaebum forces himself to ignore the nickname Wang has given him. “I’m not sure yet. I might have some work to do.”

Jackson laughs, and his eyes get soft as if he would be looking at a very dumb child. “You’re a CEO of your company, Jaebum, you can get rid of your workload whenever you want. Just think about it, baby, I’d be really glad if you joined me. We both deserve a few weeks of rest.”

“Rest? Didn’t you say it’s a business trip?”

“Plans have changed a little, not that I complain. So it’s now a vacation.”

Jaebum slowly nods, saying he’ll definitely think about it and let Jackson know; but his mind is busy trying to connect the dots between the previous story and this new one, and everything they’ve guessed about that trip. And the only conclusion he can come up with is either that there’s something wrong happening with the drug deal, or Wang just wants to be abroad as long as possible, because it’s something huge.

Jaebum’s thoughts are soon interrupted when a small TV, placed just in front of the bar of the place, interrupts its pop music program to broadcast news. It’s strange, because there’s nothing to report at this time of the day, but Jaebum can see big red letters telling it’s something important, breaking news.

Strict-looking anchorwoman, the same one whose voice Jaebum is so used to hearing in mornings whenever he leaves TV turned on for the night, says, “We are saddened to inform about an armed attack in a famous tourist attraction. Police reports say an unidentified attacker released series of bullets at people visiting Dongdaemun Design Plaza. Fourteen people are reported to be injured, two of them severely. Three people are announced dead, all three of them were identified as tourists from the United States. The attacker remains unknown, stay tuned for more updates.”

A short video appears in the screen talking about the incident and victims. Jackson looks at it indifferently, like he wouldn’t really care as long as there’s no danger to him personally, but Jaebum’s heart is somewhere in his guts.

There’s only of one the dead bodies so far that's identified fully. It’s a female, the news reporter in the screen says, a 24 year old American tourist named Lindsey Peters. They show her passport photo on the screen; and a feeling, a very familiar feeling washes over Jaebum.

CIA part of their team, three people in total, had to go investigate something in Dongdaemun today, because a few documents on one warehouse of Wang’s led them exactly there. Peters was included in the list of people going, so Jaebum has no doubt that the rest of the dead people are CIA agents, and that it wasn’t some psychopath blindly shooting around.

Jaebum’s heart sinks even more thinking about how Mark will take the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: after seeing and talking a little with jaebum last week i just don't want him to suffer in my fics anymore  
> also me: kills 3 people in one chapter :) 
> 
> anyhow, hello, i'm back with my post-concert depression, but we have Markbum Closure and even whole hug, we are progressing. poor youngjae though, but since when things are how they look like in my fics, so stay tuned. i hope yall liked this mess of a chapter, and comments are always welcomed, i love hearing your theories and other insights!


	9. Chapter 9

It takes a while, excruciatingly long seconds and minutes for Jaebum to finally be able to send Jackson off with a backhanded, sloppy and empty peck on the latter’s lips after the news about the shooting drop.

Wang never shows any bigger reaction to the horrifying news – asides maybe an unreadable frown etched in his forehead, as if he’d be thinking about something – mostly he doesn’t seem even remotely interested. Jackson doesn’t look like he cares about those dead or injured people – and that’s what makes Jaebum hate him even more, more and more with every second he has to be so close to him. However even if Jaebum wants to ask at least what Jackson thinks about this whole happening, he can’t. Not yet, probably not anytime soon.

When Jaebum finally gets back to the headquarters an hour and a half later, everyone gets called in for an emergency meeting – they all have a lot to discuss and rethink. The first thing he does after sitting down in his usual seat, comes somehow naturally to Jaebum; if at first he always used to search for Mark in briefing rooms to see if he’s there to banter with him and get on his nerves, this time he does that to make sure that the other agent is safe – he’s pretty aware of Mark’s rather rebellious nature when the latter feels like so, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Mark didn’t listen to him about taking a few free days after the encounter with Wang’s men.

At first, for some brief seconds, Jaebum’s heart does sink a little when he doesn’t spot Tuan in the room among all the other gloomy and concerned faces, so his mind automatically assumes the worst; but eventually Mark enters the room with their Section chief and a few higher-ups from other departments – you can’t leave authorities uninvolved when you have three CIA agents killed all at once.

Mark’s pale, his face is so, so pale and Jaebum can see his shaky hands even from afar, but the older agent doesn’t look at Jaebum at all – he’s heavily nodding at something the Section chief is telling him, and Jaebum gets distracted by the director of the Internal Security Board, asking if they can have a word or two after the meeting.

“As you probably know already, early this afternoon we lost three agents who were sent to investigate Dongdaemun Design Plaza.” The chief starts the meeting, but even the thought of someone having no clue why they are gathered here so hurriedly sounds incredibly ridiculous. However, it’s the formalities of the protocol, which Jinyoung as a designated secretary of the meeting is quickly typing into a laptop as a meeting report. “First off, I’d like to talk about why they were sent there.”

It wasn’t supposed to be a huge deal, perhaps that’s the reason why the CIA team didn’t bother preparing much asides their basic covers, sending three agents out of five almost on a rock-paper-scissor basis. It was supposed to be only a simple warehouse of Wang’s, one of the few they haven’t gotten an access to so far; after some quick research they realized that there are documents somehow related to wrongly filed tax forms, that would get them a legal permission to search the warehouse openly. The search of those papers led the team to Dongdaemun, as one of Jackson’s former accountants is now working there for some shop.

Turns out, everything was pointless.

“It was what I like to call security alarms.” Section chief concludes, making everyone look at him with distrust and confusion in their eyes, Jaebum included. He’s heard about what’s a security alarm in this field, and he doesn’t want to hear it here. “In a way, it’s like spreading a fake rumor to see who’s the rat in your circle. No wrongly filed tax forms ever existed, we would’ve noticed them earlier. What I think Wang did, was leaving a bunch of fake documents for us or anyone else to access – and if anyone does access it and acts upon it, there’s a chance that there’s someone trying to look at the situation deeper. Hence why it’s a security alarm – by now Wang should definitely be aware that someone’s trying to dig around. This part of the mission wasn’t useless, no, just that the CIA team was checking a hypothesis that turned out to be completely false.”

Everyone in the room is silent. It’s an eerie silence, a sad one, coming from a realization that innocent, hard-working people died because of something that’s not real, because of something that doesn’t exist and has never existed to begin with. Jaebum’s silence is also coming from a realization that three people just died because Jackson Wang simply didn’t want them to be around after declaring them a threat to himself.

Jaebum can’t really hide his disgust at the thought about someone being able to play with people’s destinies and lives like that, he’s kind of bad at hiding his true feelings, but Mark is even more so – he’s like an open book at that meeting, open albeit with a few pages that were torn out. The way he stares right in front of himself throughout the entire meeting is too familiar to Jaebum not to know at least remotely what the older agent is thinking about, and yet Jaebum can’t figure out fully what’s going through Mark’s head, because he acts absolutely calm, too calm when his input is needed.

“We need to rethink our plans, of course.” Mark says, when it’s his turn to speak. His voice is like usual, asides maybe those first weak syllables, but other than that, if you didn’t know something terrible happened just a few hours ago, you could never tell it from the way he speaks. “We can’t push the investigation on his property at this point, so we need a different approach. I’ll take care of sending the dead agents back home,” Mark makes a slight pause after this, looking right at Jaebum now, as if he’d be trusting only him with this. “So I’d like to ask the Korean team to work on this alone for a while now. If we fly off this evening, I assume we’ll be back only in three, four days, at best.”

Jaebum understandingly nods, as he’s the leader of the Korean team, but when he tries to catch Mark’s stare, the latter isn’t looking at him anymore. It looks like now Mark is more comfortable looking his own hands resting in his lap, or the surface of the dark, cold table.

“Of course.” Jaebum says. “I’d also like to take some security measures from now on, to assure that these kinds of unfortunate events wouldn’t happen anymore. From now on, all the agents going to missions, investigations and so on will always have another team that’s going to be on a standby from the very first second after the first team leaves the headquarters. If during your investigations you find anything at least remotely suspicious, report it immediately and wait for the backup, no other actions are allowed, unless it’s a life-threatening situation. Any mission with less than two team members is strictly forbidden.”

Everyone nods, some start scribbling things into their notebooks; Jaebum can swear he can hear Yugyeom mumbling that it won’t save them – there were three of CIA agents there, the number doesn’t matter. However, Jaebum doesn’t budge, after a second adding, “And also, I’d like to ask everyone wear bulletproof vests during the time you spend outside the headquarters or your own home.” A few mouths open to argue, but Jaebum’s having none of that. “It’s an order. If I see any of you not following it, you’ll be immediately taken off the case. We lost three people too many today and I don’t want to see any kind of reckless behavior from this very minute.”

Jinyoung throws a sarcastic stare at him, but Jaebum chooses to ignore it.

The meeting ends soon after, after re-checking details about Wang and where he is now; by the time he’s about to land in Beijing, Jaebum remembers him whining about having to take a commercial flight with all the other simple mortals, even though he’s definitely flying first class. The director of Internal Security Board grabs Jaebum’s arm just in time so he wouldn’t make it to follow Mark, who stands up almost immediately after everyone’s dismissed and disappears behind the door of the room.

It’s some useless and annoying questions Jaebum gets asked, borderline unrelated to the case, and Jaebum has to clench his jaw in order to restrain himself from sending his superior to hell – he doesn’t have time to think about some new regulations on economic crimes.  In the end, probably seeing his irritation, the man only asks to bring the protocol of the meeting Jinyoung left freshly printed on the table to Data Analysis team. Jaebum only sighs, clutching the papers given to him; every second is just a delay to him, a delay to making sure that Mark’s dealing with this in a better way than Jaebum was and still is.

In the end, it doesn’t appear to be such an absurd task, because it does exactly what he wants – it leads him to Mark.

Jaebum takes the stairs this time, because going from 7th to 9th floor of the building isn’t that much of a deal to begin with, besides he’d wait for the elevator longer than it takes him to go up a few flights of stairs. He notices a lonely figure sitting on the stairs the same second he steps out into the staircase. Mark’s eyes are closed and he’s resting his head against a wall. It’s not the best location to hide when anyone can come in here at any time, but perhaps Mark has never been good at hiding.

The first thing Jaebum notices is Mark’s red and a little runny nose and his red eyes, when the guy opens them after getting startled by an intruder in his hideout. He still smiles seeing Jaebum though, or at least tries to – his smile is forced and heavy, and Jaebum immediately forgets his initial task and the papers he has to deliver, now sitting on the stairs right next to Mark.

He doesn’t know what to say, how to comfort Mark – he’s never been good at dealing with his own emotions, let alone other people’s; and anyway, what _do_ you say to a person who lost three friends and colleagues a few hours ago? Jaebum has always expected himself to know how to act in such situation, given he’s been ears deep in it for years now, or at least to say the phrases he wanted to hear from someone all this time, but words get stuck in his throat.

“I guess we’re even more similar now than we’ve ever thought before.” Mark speaks up first and Jaebum knows it’s supposed to be a joke of some sorts, a distraction, but it sounds terrifying at this point. “In a very twisted way.”

Jaebum doesn’t know what to reply to this. He never wanted this kind of similarity; even though at times he wondered that things might’ve been different if he had someone to talk to, someone whom he could relate to, now having Mark becoming that person feels sad.

“I barely knew them, actually.” Mark sighs, and his voice is neutral, like he would be talking about something that’s not related to him at all. “I’ve known Peters perhaps the longest, she got transferred to our department two weeks before we left for Korea. Myers and Robinson, the two guys that were with her today… We met on the plane to Seoul, they’re from New York. It’s stupid to be feel attached to people you don’t even know that well, isn’t it?”

“It’s not.” Jaebum tells after some time. “It’s not stupid to get attached to people at all – they’re your colleagues, your friends often. It’s normal to get attached, even though everyone else may say it’s a mistake.”

He drifts to memories of his training, the first lesson all the future field agents have to learn – it’s bad to get attached. Teams get disbanded, agents quit, some of them die and you have to move on; feelings in this field are hindrance and not welcomed.

It’s easier to say than to do though, and Jaebum remembers himself, a twenty-one year old, swearing that he’ll never be like that, like their teacher who introduced them to this concept – cold and emotionless machine programmed only to fight criminals and feel only rage and adrenaline rush.

“Was it the same… Did you feel the same when Bambam died?” Mark asks, carefully, not without some hesitation in his voice, and for a moment Jaebum stops breathing. He’s never talked about it before, he always refused to, telling people to mind their own business because he’s okay.

He’s not.

“Yes… and no.” Jaebum mumbles eventually. Perhaps that’s all he can do in this situation, to guide Mark through this with his own fucked up example, so that the older agent wouldn’t fall into the same loop of self-blame, rage and despair. “Sometimes it feels that it’s the worst feeling anyone could feel. I’ve known Bambam for more than a year when he died. I’ve watched over him even since he was training, a bright, a little childish kid from Thailand, who couldn’t even hold a gun properly. He wasn’t a friend to me, more like a younger brother, always attached to my hip pestering to teach him everything I know. I used to get annoyed about that, sure, but eventually I realized that those were the easy days.”

“And then he died.”

“And then he died, just like that. One second he was right in front of me fighting some criminal, the other… he wasn’t there anymore.” Jaebum hums, feeling how memories wash over him again, how he can see it clearly again under his closed eyes. “At first, I didn’t feel anything, my mind refused to even try to understand it. It was ridiculous to think Bambam is anywhere else but there in the same hospital we were in after the explosion. But eventually it has to sink in, and it feels… It feels like you’d rather have shoved a flaming hot metal pole into your body and it would actually hurt less.”

It finally hit Jaebum after four whole days of denial and confusion, that the reason why Bambam isn’t visiting his favorite hyung to pester him wasn’t because he was playing tricks or because he was busy – it was because he really was _dead_. He remembers that moment so vividly, he probably still could tell the date and the exact time the realization dawned on him that Bambam wasn’t coming back anymore and that it was Jaebum’s fault.

Jaebum’s life has been hell ever since that second.

They say there are five stages of grief; and a lot of people who have known Jaebum better would probably say that he’s forever stuck somewhere between the second and the fourth, because Jaebum is so, so angry and devastated at everything and everyone, but that’s not quite it.

There are five stages of grief, but to Jaebum, however, there’s only one – Bambam’s death. There’s nothing after that, a black hole. Absolute, pure nothingness that’s been keeping Jaebum tied in one place for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t notice it immediately, but a traitorous tear escapes his eye – something that he never allows to happen if he’s not surrounded by the four walls of his apartment – but he’s too tired and afraid at this point to keep his usual guard up. It would be a little two-faced to do so, Jaebum thinks, feeling the wet trace on his cheek, trying to assure Mark it’s okay to cry, feel sad and grieve while trying to hide his own feelings at the same time.

Mark understands; he understands the amount of effort Jaebum has to put in to be this honest, and even though Mark is hurting himself, he’s still ridiculously fast to return the comfort he’s being offered, by leaning his head on Jaebum’s shoulder.

And here they are, two broken people sharing the same staircase and their pain, trying to accept each other and their own emotions; trying to pick up the shards the blows have left.

“Do you really think it was just that, a security alarm?” Mark mumbles after a while; Jaebum still feels his warm breathing somewhere into his skin, but after a few seconds he shakes his head.

“Keeping fake links and documents up requires time and resources and Wang hates wasting time. It was a one-time hit, those fake documents weren’t there waiting for someone to blindly bump into them, they were there on purpose because he wanted to get rid of people behind the investigation.”

“Doesn’t that mean he knows about who you really are and about this whole case?”

Jaebum has thought about it; and when he opens his mouth it’s more to convince himself than Mark. “It’s probably just one of those messed up ideas of his, like the one we’re dating, so I think I’m safe for a while.”

But for some reason, when eventually Mark goes to the airport to leave to the States, he doesn’t feel safe at all.

 

The few upcoming days bring relative calmness – Wang’s still in Beijing, only texting Jaebum from time to time, Mark is in the States, Jaebum doesn’t have much information on where exactly he is and what is he doing, asides knowing that he’s scheduled to come back by the end of this week.

Jaebum himself is trying his best to access all the possible documents on Jackson’s business they could use to prove the theory about Choi Youngjae possibly being a target for revenge, however to no avail. All the documents are ridiculously clean, too clean for him not to feel uneasy, because nothing makes sense anymore.

The documents are pristine clean, Wang hates drugs, Youngjae is in love with him – at this point Jaebum is sure that someone’s messing with them or they’re too blind to see a weak spot in this, but eventually, he has to put a pause on these concerns, because Thursday comes too fast, ridiculously matching with the day Jackson is coming back from China. It’s kind of ironical, Jaebum thinks on Wednesday evening, before trying to fall asleep because he has to be at his best the next day, it’s the two things he’s afraid of the most at the moment.

Having to deal with Jackson in Seoul and medical evaluations. Needless to say that this particular night doesn’t bring him a lot of sleep – but he’s used to that anyway.

At some point, when he’s getting all kinds of things checked, Jaebum thinks that he’s come to terms that it might be the last time he’s in this building this year. It’s not coming to terms that’s been accepted by him like a natural thing, like something he should take care of; it’s more like giving up once again and letting someone else decide for him, because he can’t bring himself to move in his own mind.

It’s a little funny to him, when he gets his lungs checked, when a too friendly-looking doctor widely smiles to him, twirling a dark red curl of her hair around her finger in a rather flirty manner when she’s checking his eyesight. Everything’s fine with him, exceptionally fine as expected from a top-class NIS agent, well maybe his eyesight is a little prone to get messed up in the future, so he’s advised not to strain his eyes – but Jaebum knows that it’s not important.

His lungs, his bones, his heart, it’s not important at all, because the real test is still waiting for him.

“Good afternoon.” Doctor Woo greets him with a fatherly smile, shaking his hand in a friendly manner, when it’s finally Jaebum’s turn to get a psychological screening and have his documents signed. They’ve met a few times before, during Jaebum’s first and second year here, but Woo was never a doctor in charge, unlike this year. “It feels like it’s been ages since I last saw you, kid. How are you, how are things?”

Jaebum would like to smile to him, to spit out a lie that everything’s fine and he’s fine too; but he’s too nervous, his jaw is painfully tight, because everything feels like an evaluation to him, like the doctor would be scrutinizing every move of his and writing his judgements on why Jaebum is unable to resume his job.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Jaebum finally mumbles sitting at the table in front of the man with a white doctor’s coat on him.

“Haven’t changed in the slightest.” Doctor Woo laughs. “Still not a man of words, aren’t you?” He takes Jaebum’s papers and medical history reports, and his eyes get darker with every word he reads. He’s not obliged to keep track of medical histories of every NIS employee, he has a whole lot of them in his own workplace, so it’s not really a surprise that he’s not aware of what has happened neither to Bambam nor to Jaebum after it. “It says you got two psychological screenings last year. Do you mind elaborating on it?”

“One was the mandatory yearly health check. You were on a holiday back then, so NIS got someone from another hospital to run those on us.” Jaebum starts and it takes him a while to finish the story. “And the second one… One of my colleagues has died while on a mission with me, so while I was in the hospital after the incident, they did another one.”

Doctor Woo carefully looks at him. “And you passed it?”

“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

Jaebum tries not to think about the fact that he bribed the nurse to change his real medical records with fake ones. Him forging his medical reports started way before Yugyeom was asked to give Jaebum the access to NIS databases. Over the years, it seems, Jaebum’s been getting bolder.

The doctor only looks at him, but doesn’t say anything for a while, making Jaebum nervously fidget in his seat. He doesn’t know what he expects really, the memories of psychological screenings in his early career years are a little vague, because he always passed without a doubt and it was the easiest part for him; he remembers there were some questionnaires, asking seemingly random questions about what he’d do in certain situations, but this time it’s not like that.

It’s strange. Especially when doctor Woo only smiles at him while pushing a white sheet of paper and a few colored pencils towards him like they would be in arts class and asks him to draw something, anything. Jaebum doesn’t know what to make of it. He looks at the white paper in front of him, not sure what is he supposed to draw – he’s always hated vague orders, if he did something, it had to be clear and pre-determined.

After fifteen minutes of pondering, he finally draws a flower. It’s a lily, a red and black one, with sharp and angry lines, deeply etched into the paper. Even though Jaebum thinks he knows why he drew it, why it was the first thing to come into his head, he doesn’t want to talk about.

“You’re done already?” Doctor Woo asks, taking the paper from him and taking a good look. “A lily, huh? Not the colors you’d usually find in nature, but I think there’s a type that’s so deep purple it appears black.” Jaebum doesn’t respond to that, waiting for the final judgement or another test, but Woo only keeps smiling to him, with this light and friendly smile that eventually starts to annoy Jaebum. “Okay, I think that’s about it. You can go, kid. See you next year, I suppose.”

Jaebum doesn’t move, following the man with his eyes. “What about my evaluation?”

“I’ll sign it and send it over to your HR department, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you have a lot on your plate already to worry about some paper.” Woo says, and it makes Jaebum uneasy. Not that he didn’t expect to pass, the hope always dies the last, but it’s just… strange.

“So I passed?” He asks once again.

“Of course you did.”

Jaebum looks at him for the last time before leaving the room; it’s strange, it’s so odd for him – and the fact that he saw doctor Woo throwing his drawing to the trash can next to the table doesn’t make the feeling subside.

He doesn’t have much time to think about it though, because he bumps into Yugyeom as soon as he reaches the office. The latter looks like he’s been waiting for his colleague to show up, holding a phone in his hand and from his face Jaebum already knows it’s nothing good.

“How was your medical screening?” Yugyeom starts from afar, and there’s concern written all over his eyes, but Jaebum only shakes his head saying it was fine and asking what’s up. “You should be even more careful from now on, hyung.”

Jaebum frowns a little, when Yugyeom shows him the phone, and when he finally realizes what’s going on, he wholeheartedly curses. It’s the thing he needed the least right now – Yugyeom is showing him a gossip site, where the first and, of course, the biggest, headline screams in neon pink letters, _“The mysterious young man next to the nation’s eye candy Jackson Wang – who is he?”_ accompanied by a photo someone sneaked yesterday during their lunch, with Jaebum’s fake smile plastered all over his face when Jackson was telling him something.

“That’s not all.” Yugyeom adds and Jaebum can’t imagine what else can be added to this new mess they have to solve, because he can’t afford reporters following his every step. “My friend works as a junior editor in that site and…”

“And?”

“The anonymous person who tipped off the author of this shit,” Yugyeom says, “It’s was Jackson himself.”

Jaebum feels like he’d be stuck in some terrible drama with an absurd plot – or a very genius one where he just doesn’t see the links between the events before the final episode. “Why would he sell this shit to reporters when he was the one who went off about privacy this much?”

“As much as I’ve heard it’s one of his tactics to tie people to him. Have you never found it odd that all of his lovers were dragged in the media by the same site, this one? Jackson has it in his pocket, and he uses it to deal with his ex-lovers mostly, ruining them if he feels too bitter after the breakup. Him having the site write this one probably means he wants to keep you as close as possible, so just stick with him for the time being, hyung. We don’t need him sending the reporters to dig around your non-existent company in search of blackmail material.”

Stick with Wang for the time being, sure Jaebum’s capable of that. Perhaps that’s why the gossip is the last straw for Jaebum, after which he makes his decision no matter how much it will cost him later. If Wang wants to keep him close, he’ll get exactly that.

“Baby?” Jackson’s voice sounds a little surprised after he picks up the phone, because Jaebum doesn’t even care that he’ll pay a shitload of money for an international call to China, catching Jackson just before he boards a plane back to Seoul. “Is everything alright? You usually never call.”

Jaebum isn’t listening – if Jackson can pretend he knows nothing about the news, so can he. “I thought about it, and I decided to go with you to Thailand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so jaebum's really going to thailand, huh. doesn't seem like a smart decision tbh, but since when are they all making smart decisions here, especially with this medical evaluation which literally belongs in the trash, for Certain Reasons. 
> 
> ANYHOW, things are finally moving forward in this fic, because thailand chapters are the ones which are probably going to be one of the most intense ones; i can't wait to finally start revealing The Big Things that were behind this plot all this time kjdfjdh. i've seen a few people on twitter speculating the plot, but tbh even though i'm surprised they went this deep into the plot, none of them were actually right about what's really happening here (which i take as a plus for me, selfishly), and i'm sure, or at least hope, the real story will make yall shook lmao 
> 
> to finish this monologue, why jaebum drew a lily - lilies oftentimes are associated with funerals, and color red often indicates anger, and so on, i'm sure you got the drill behind that drawing. 
> 
> so, yeah, comments are always welcomed, i love reading them and all your insights about what may happen or have happened, so don't hesitate to write to me either here or on twitter


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello it's time to reveal some Bigger Things, finally

Jackson is surprised by Jaebum’s words – of course he is, it’s hard not to be given how many times Jaebum has changed the topic whenever the trip to Thailand was brought up. He’s so surprised by it that a deep frown etches into his forehead as he’s pressing his phone against his ear harder, because Jaebum is talking way too fast and slurs his words way too much for it to be fully understandable among all this noise Jackson is surrounded by in a crowded airport in Beijing, just a few minutes away from boarding a plane to return to Seoul.

However, it’s a pleasant surprise to him. In fact, Jackson is so pleased and content with this turn of events and that his plans are actually starting to work out, he decides that they don’t even need to wait one more week like it was planned at first anymore – they can leave for Bangkok this very Saturday, what leaves Jaebum with only one and a half day to prepare; both physically and mentally.

But Jaebum, even though alarmed by this strange rush, doesn’t argue much – not that he can anyway; he probably came off a little too enthusiastic and excited about this whole thing, babbling about places he’d love to see and local foods he’s looking forward to trying. In reality though, all those places and foods are nothing else but the names Jaebum quickly read off a tourist blog somewhere online, the first Naver search result he absentmindedly looked through.

There’s only one place in Bangkok he’d _really_ want to visit, but Jaebum is almost sure one could hardly call it a tourist attraction.

In a way, it’s like Jaebum is willingly stepping into a spiderweb, letting it stick to him and make him get lost in it further and further without a possibility to ever escape; he’s not that dumb to think that something really good will come out of this – for the case perhaps, yes, but not for him.

And yet he and Jackson are leaving Seoul this Saturday at 9:35 AM, as Wang kindly informs him with another call later, after he lands in Seoul - to organize two plane tickets this quickly is a piece of cake for someone like Jackson Wang, let alone the accommodation.

There’s nothing much Jaebum can take with himself for safety reasons, he fully realizes that only on Friday evening, when he’s trying to pack his suitcases accompanied by Jinyoung and Yugyeom, both sitting on the floor of Jaebum’s tiny apartment. Guns are out of question, something bulletproof is also not really an option – it’s not like Wang will try to shoot him dead in his sleep, Jaebum says when Yugyeom raises the question, offering to make a deal with the airport security and Thailand Immigration office so he could smuggle in at least something for defense, if the situation arises.

So there’s going to be only him against Wang if something goes wrong, him and anything he’ll find around himself – it’s a rather concerning thing to know, but that Saturday morning at 6 AM, when one of Jackson’s drivers comes to pick him up – from a neighborhood Jaebum doesn’t even live in, because he’s not that stupid to give his real address – Jaebum has only his basic clothing packed into one suitcase, and Jinyoung’s promise that they will do everything they can to monitor the situation both in Thailand and here, especially now that the supposed drug exchange is supposed to take soon.

The driver, well-built guy, probably just a tiny bit older than Jaebum, politely nods to him in a greeting, taking his suitcase and putting it into the trunk of the car, so that Jaebum wouldn’t need to do that himself. Jaebum lets out a slight smile back, one that doesn’t shake even when his breathing hitches, realizing that it’s one of the men who beat Mark up last week – the American agent has given quite detailed description of the attackers, so Jaebum has no doubts about it.

There’s something oddly ironic being driven around by a person who could probably break your kneecaps faster than spelling his own name, Jaebum thinks, trying not to look overly tense, and when they finally leave the city to go to Incheon, his mind wanders off to Mark.

Jaebum hasn’t heard anything from him for the past few days; not that he expected Mark to call or text him from the States or anything, and he’s sure Mark has a lot of more important things to deal with right now. However, surprisingly even to himself, Jaebum has to admit that he hoped he’d get a chance to see him before flying to Bangkok. He’s a bit confused by this thought, but he doesn’t have much time to delve deeper into it – the ride to the airport isn’t that long and Jaebum’s sure the driver was speeding a little.

Jackson is in a good mood that morning, it seems, when Jaebum finally sees him after being accompanied to some place by a bunch of airport security guards who meet them as soon as Jaebum gets off the car. He doesn’t even seem annoyed by the fact that upon their meeting, the airport staff ushers both him and Jaebum to the VIP entrance to avoid a swarm of reporters and fangirls, who, most decidedly, are aware that Jackson’s here, waiting for a plane. Jaebum, on the contrary, has a harder time getting used to that, nervously tapping on his knee as they’re sitting in the airport lounge.

Wang’s kisses on Jaebum’s lips are warmer and even more relaxed than usual, his smiles are a lot more natural – like he’d slowly be losing his initial intimidating guard he’s always keeping up. The cautiousness with which Jackson treats everything in Seoul is gone, after he gets fed up with sitting and doing nothing and drags Jaebum to some duty-free shops holding Jaebum’s hand without any care about other people surrounding them.

“It’s for you.” Jackson says a few moments later, giving something to Jaebum, who absentmindedly stares at some perfume bottles, trying to pretend he’s also looking for something instead of looking into the void in front of himself.

“Thank you.” Jaebum says, and he tries to sound like he really means it. “You didn’t have to buy it for me, though.” He really didn’t, because Jaebum is sure that Jackson left approximately 40,000 own on the counter for a piece of metal he will never actually use.

It’s heart-shaped keyring. A cute metal heart, colored pink and red.

It’s almost like whenever Jackson Wang crosses the border between Korea and any other country, he becomes a different person. Down to earth, relaxed, charming even – judging from the way flight attendants giggle at his jokes and don’t charge him for the soft drinks he buys – and Jaebum can’t figure out which one is the real Jackson Wang. The one in Seoul, always ready to cut throats and ruin lives for the sake of his own well-being, or this one, on whose shoulder Jaebum is resting his head now, being lulled back to sleep by the noises of the plane – a simple, lighthearted twenty-five year old, perhaps just with a little bit more money than ordinary people.

Jaebum returns him one of those smiles before finally dozing off, and the last thing Jaebum remembers from a 5 hours long trip is how Jackson’s eyes light up seeing him sleepily smiling.

 

_It’s like a TV drama, one of the many you’d see nowadays – a person returns from a trip earlier than they’re supposed to and finds their partner cheating. However, it’s not a TV drama and it’s not cheating, it’s only Mark, coming back from the States a day earlier, because everything went smoother than they all expected. He decided to visit NIS headquarters to catch up with the latest news – he’s aware that Jaebum departed to Bangkok this very morning and he wanted to make sure there’s at least someone watching over him there, but he was forced to stop midway, hand still curled up in a fist to knock on the door of Jinyoung’s office, since his secretary is gone somewhere._

_Jinyoung is talking on the phone with someone it seems, a little too loud for it to be called smart behavior; so Mark spends a couple of minutes listening and getting puzzled more and more as the time passes. Sure, he doesn’t know Jinyoung for that long, but seeing how Jaebum trusts him, Mark learned to treat the agent the same, however, the conversation he just heard is the absolute opposite of anything that’s worth to be trusted._

_Perhaps it’s because he’s so taken aback, he doesn’t quite realize when the conversation ends, and Jinyoung opens the doors of his office, ready to go to the meeting of his department. If he’s surprised to find Mark standing right in front of his door, he doesn’t show it; perhaps it’s only his eyes that give away his emotions – they’re incredibly cold._

_“So you’re eavesdropping again?” Jinyoung asks._

_“It’s not like you were whispering, everyone could hear.”_

_Jinyoung laughs a little and fixes his tie out of habit, but his eyes don’t get warmer. “So what are you going to do? Tell Jaebum?”_

_“Should I?” Mark offers him a question back, and it’s not even for dragging the time; he really has no idea what to do with this piece of information._

_“If I were you, I wouldn’t.” Jinyoung kindly smiles. “Not unless I wanted something… unexpected happen to him. Thailand isn’t the safest place for tourists, you know? Besides, he’s so independent and likes to take walks alone, I wouldn’t be surprised if one time he got… lost, or something. Now if you excuse me, I have a meeting. Have a nice day, Tuan.”_

Thailand, like it’s usual for this time of the year, greets them with a rainy season at its best – Jaebum, sleepily rubbing his eyes while passengers are told to fasten their seatbelts for landing, hears Jackson loudly wondering how they’re going to land like this. Jaebum has never seen a rain this heavy; huge streaks of water angrily hitting the plane once they finally land, making everyone soaking wet just a few moments after they step outside.

It’s a warm rain though, and it reminds Jaebum of Bambam at little.

Strong, perhaps sometimes too persistent about something, but warm no matter what – that’s how Jaebum has always seen his younger colleague; and his heart sinks with heaviness the very same second he thinks about the Thai boy.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Jackson’s concerned voice snaps him back, as he obviously zoned out, while other people are trying to push through him because they’re definitely not about to stand here in the pouring rain thanks to him looking into the void in front of himself, feeling every drop of rain on his skin. When Jaebum nods, trying to convince himself with that nod, Wang puts his arm around his lover’s waist dragging him closer. “First time here?”

“Yeah.” Jaebum mumbles, trying to avoid eye contact. If Jackson thinks he’s only stunned by a new, unseen country or something, so be it – the less unwanted questions, the better.

The start of their vacation doesn’t bring anything groundbreaking – they’re met by the hotel they’re staying in staff to be taken to the place, Jaebum gets disgusted by the shameless luxury of that place in a few minutes; Jackson is mostly dragging him around to visit new places. The Grand Palace, Wat Pho, Chatuchak market, Siam Paragon – eventually the names and places start mixing in Jaebum’s head and he’s too out of it to actually remember them all, forcing himself to only snap a few photos here and there, so it wouldn’t seem so tragically suspicious.

Jackson is starting to grow tired and bored soon, because he’s already seen all of this more than a couple of times already, both alone and with his previous lovers, and also because Jaebum’s reaction to everything is underwhelming to say the least. Jaebum doesn’t talk much, if at all, during these sightseeing trips; he looks at all the buildings, markets, food, people – but he doesn’t _see_ any of it, to him, they’re only shapes, colors and noises.

Sure, all those places are pretty, amazing and breathtaking even, but with every new location the only thought that’s drilling deeper and deeper inside Jaebum’s brain is only one – whether Bambam has ever been here. Whether he’s ever stepped on the same pavement Jaebum is walking on now, feeling the sweat running down his face, because even though it’s the rainy season, the heat doesn’t really subside much; whether Bambam’s ever looked at the same statue from the exact same angle, or whether the Thai kid has ever gone through the clothes neatly hanged in this small shop Jackson drags Jaebum to, while being scrutinized by an old woman who’s running the business.

Jackson eventually starts noticing it; he might not be the brightest person ever, but he notices that something about Jaebum is off, perhaps even more than usual. This time, however, Jackson’s smart, or compassionate, enough to leave him be. It’s enough for him to see Jaebum during the nights when they’re sharing a bed in their hotel room; those lazy and absentminded quick sexual acts they engage in at random places are enough too – maybe because it’s exactly what this relationship was meant to be from the very beginning.

Or perhaps it’s because Jackson doesn’t care – by Tuesday evening, the fourth day of their vacation, Jaebum, coming back from a walk because he felt like his head is about to explode, notices Jackson coming out of the bar the hotel is running; he’s obviously tipsy and there’s a young, objectively attractive female clutching onto his arm, loudly giggling at something Jackson is saying, batting her long, black eyelashes, and swaying her long blond hair.

Jaebum smiles a little to himself, remembering Youngjae’s words about all the _others_ Jackson has ever dated and slept with, then he concludes that some things never change. He can’t lie, he wasn’t mad about Jackson’s personality change as soon as they left Korea, but even that was apparently something he shouldn’t have trusted. Then, he simply turns to search for an elevator to return to their room, having at least one night only for himself.

To his surprise, Jaebum feels a little lonely there, surrounded only by scarily white walls and same colored bedsheets, reminding him of hospitals a little too much. The bed is suddenly way too big for him, when he lies down with a book in his hands, the one he borrowed from the receptionist this morning, and Jaebum feels a little out of breath, and so, so small here.

He uses a newly opened opportunity to distract himself – Jackson for sure isn’t going to be back soon, if at all, so Jaebum can go through his belongings, neatly placed in one of the wardrobes, without any rush or fear, meticulously checking every little thing to search for something suspicious.

After more than an hour, Jaebum has to admit that there’s nothing – Jackson doesn’t have anything that could be used as a gun, there are no drugs or suspicious devices, he doesn’t even bring his laptop with himself. It’s as if he really came here only to rest and fuck around to let some steam off before returning to Korea and NIS was just paranoid about everything, so it makes Jaebum puzzled once again. All the rush, all the efforts to convince him to come… What for?

The thoughts and theories start spinning in his head and Jaebum doesn’t really notice how he finally dozes off, falling into a deep slumber, completely blacking out – just being in Bambam’s home country drains him enough to not even have nightmares anymore.

He wakes up only in early in the morning, when Jackson’s is already back; judging from how he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, not that long time ago. He’s yelling at someone over the phone and Jaebum gets startled by all the shouts and how _furious_ Jackson sounds, so he basically jumps from the bed a bit disoriented, as Jackson screams out, “I don’t know how you’re going to handle this, but I don’t want to have anything to do with it. I had no idea what he was doing and I’m _not_ going to take the responsibility for this shit!”

Jackson quickly throws a glance at Jaebum, perhaps naively expecting him to be still sleeping or not even being in the room, but he’s there, rubbing his sleepy eyes trying to understand what on earth is happening. Only then he sighs, finally calming down a little, and placing a soft and apologetic peck on Jaebum’s forehead.

“Sorry for waking you up. One of my companies are in deep shit because I trusted wrong people. I’ll probably have to call a press conference somewhere here, so it’s better if you stay away from this whole mess until I’m done, okay? I’ll be moving to another hotel and meet you in a few days, it’s not going to look good in the media if someone spots us together at this point. The Korean media is just waiting to tear me in pieces if I’m caught dating on top of this fuckery.”

Jaebum has a hard time not to look relieved – he doesn’t mind Jackson moving as far away from his as possible, he’s just confused as to why such measures are exactly needed. Wang can keep this bullshit about not wanting to be caught dating – it’s not like Jaebum hasn’t noticed a few people taking photos of them outside; if the media wanted, they could out them in a second.

It doesn’t take long to understand what exactly went south, after Jaebum notices a few missed calls from an unsaved number, which is Jinyoung’s – Jaebum deleted the most important contacts off his phone before the trip – and a message to check the news as soon as he can. So Jaebum does exactly that as soon as Jackson finishes packing his most needed items and heads out of the room saying he’ll call Jaebum soon.

It’s all over the biggest media sites, Jaebum doesn’t even need to search it.

_Jackson Wang’s best friend and co-owner of a modelling agency Choi Youngjae (23) arrested for tax fraud. Wang denies his involvement, prosecution demands Choi’s imprisonment. Choi himself is being held in custody for further questioning until tomorrow morning._

So they were right, Jaebum thinks, putting his phone down. Jackson really did sacrifice Choi Youngjae for something, for some bigger scheme NIS agents haven’t gotten to yet. A bit by bit, a theory starts to form in Jaebum’s mind, that there perhaps was no drug deal coming up – maybe Wang just wanted to stay away from the mess that’s happening in Seoul right now.

 

The upcoming few days don’t bring anything else really; Jackson barely calls, because he can’t make the reporters back off, there are talks in the media about him having to cancel his mysterious vacation to provide documents proving he really had no idea of what was happening; NIS headquarters are a mess too, as much as Jaebum can understand from a few messages coming from Yugyeom, because no one expected this turn of events and now everyone is trying to regroup and get a better view on Choi’s case. Jaebum becomes relatively free – guided by the hotel staff who now look at him with rather pitying looks, he can at least sneak outside to escape those scary four white walls he’s growing sick of.

He spends those few days aimlessly walking around, watching the locals running their errands in the suffocating heat and the rain that usually stops only for a while. He visits a few souvenir shops, looking at figurines and magnets, keychains and cups, only for the realization to dawn on him that he doesn’t really have anyone to bring souvenirs to. He barely has any friends, Jinyoung and Yugyeom surely wouldn’t enjoy something brought from one workplace to another, because Thailand is still _work_ for Jaebum; and buying something for his parents would bring even more questions, why and when was he here – his parents have no idea where Jaebum is right now.

Besides, not like Jaebum visits them often enough, he probably will briefly see them during Lunar New Year, and that’s next year.

Jaebum also spends a lot of his time next to the sea, his feet carefully leaving neat traces on the warm sand, with sea water splashing on his feet, letting him enjoy the calmness of an almost empty beach in the evenings, when the rain gets heavier. It calms him down a little, being drenched to the last piece of clothing, like the rain would be washing away the dangerous thought that’s not leaving him anymore now that there’s not even Jackson beside him for a distraction.

It’s a destructive thought, he knows, because he can barely survive _being_ in this country; but it’s baiting him, Jaebum’s own mind is luring him into visiting _that_ place despite knowing that everything would go downhill from there.

He knows where Bambam is buried – his family didn’t want to cremate him like it was usual in the country, so Jaebum was able to find out in which cemetery he was laid to rest; his mind is trying to make him believe that it would be ungrateful, to say the least, to be so close and not even pay a visit.

Jaebum helplessly laughs, sitting on the sand in the rain, watching the raindrops dancing on the surface of the sea. To him, visiting Bambam’s grave would mean admitting that he’s dead, and also admitting the reason _why_ he’s dead. And perhaps Jaebum really is an ungrateful coward, because he still doesn’t want to admit that reason out loud – a small part of his brain, maybe the only sane one, is still trying to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, when it clearly was.

Eventually Jaebum starts feeling cold, it’s hard not to when the weather is finally starting to cool off for the night; even the rain is getting colder, making Jaebum shiver and his lips turn blue, as he’s soaking wet after sitting in the rain for too long, already with a cold he caught yesterday while doing the exact same.

The walk back to the hotel is pretty lonely, considering Jaebum doesn’t take the most popular route – he’s found a shorter one earlier that day, which leads through some bushes and trees, reminding him of a small forest a little. He’s immersed into the music that’s tearing his eardrums apart from the earphones he has in – looking back at it, Jaebum would say it just screamed for trouble. You can only expect so much, combining shady paths and not being able hear anything around you.

So it’s not a surprise that the trouble does find him, when someone grabs him by his arm, making him drop the bag of food he’s gotten from a convenience store on his way before taking this path. Jaebum yanks the earphones out of his ears ready to fight, or at least to try to protect himself. A lot of things cross his mind during that brief moment – _it’s a pickpocket, it’s a person sent by Wang, he’s going to die here_ ; however, it’s not what it seems like.

At first, Jaebum doesn’t see the face of the person clearly, both because it’s getting dark already and the person is wearing a cap, but when the person lifts his head, still holding Jaebum by his wrist, the latter’s heart gets filled with relief and even more confusion.

It’s Mark, all dressed in black and drenched by rain to toes, and Jaebum has so many questions that it seems like his brain is about to explode, although none of the questions actually escape his lips, except for, “What are you doing here?”

Mark’s reaction is default after making sure Jaebum won’t punch him back in defense – he lightly smiles, but his smile is far from being bright and happy this time. “Came to keep you out of trouble. Which you’re clearly searching for, walking in places like this.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the States?”

“I was supposed to return to Seoul yesterday, but I changed my flight after hearing you’re already here.” Mark says after a pause, fully aware of the lie he’s spitting right into Jaebum’s face and how much the other guy trusts him that he actually believes someone would’ve let him change flights out of the blue.

“Why?” Jaebum kicks a rock that conveniently rests on the path just besides his foot, so that he wouldn’t need to look Mark in the eyes. For some reason, it’s hard to do that. “Is it because Youngjae got arrested?”

“He’s not arrested anymore, at least not in the general sense. NIS is trying to make the media shut up about this, but they took over his case, in attempt to convince him to cooperate on snitching on Wang. At least that’s what Yugyeom wrote me, he seems to be the one responsible for the negotiations. Anyway,” Mark sighs. “That’s not why I’m here. Everything _here_ is more fucked up that we thought it would ever get.”

“Tell me about it.” Jaebum bitterly laughs.

“No, listen. I hate bringing this up, you know I do, and I’m sorry in advance,” Mark says, and his words are so fast, Jaebum can barely understand, but it still alarms him nevertheless. “Do you remember who the people who attacked you in Shilla were? On the day Bambam died?”

Jaebum doesn’t answer immediately. He doesn’t understand why it matters now, why is it important, especially now when they’re in Thailand and he can’t fucking stop thinking about that day every minute he spends awake.

“Some Chinese mobsters.” He finally mumbles. “It was supposed to be an exchange of some sorts, explosives for something… I don’t remember the exact details, because everything went sideways.”

Mark, after hearing this, hands him something. A photo, an old one – a little yellowish already and with stains here and there, but the contents of it are clear. It’s a photo of Jackson and a bunch of some guys, probably a high school party or something, considering how young and tipsy all the people in the photo look as they’re posing for it.

And then Jaebum spots another familiar face in the photo; he’s seen the person, he’s _met_ the man – Jaebum doesn’t know the name, but he was the one who almost sent a bullet right into Jaebum’s forehead in that god forsaken hotel.

“The gang that was in the hotel… The one that attacked you,” Mark slowly says, making Jaebum want to cover his ears, to scream, to do _anything_ in order to drown Mark’s voice, “They were working for Jackson. It was one of his drug exchanges, the explosives Bambam set off were supposed to be exchanged into drugs for Jackson’s business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: drags the fic with barely any action for 9 chapters  
> also me: makes 2582 things happen all at once out of the blue
> 
> ANYHOW. when i told the thailand chapters will be intense i wasn't lying, there are still SO MANY Big Things to reveal, it honestly pains me to keep my mouth shut, but like they say here, patience is a virtue lmao anyhow, jackson's out of sight for a while, but markbum are together... it could mean some good things for them finally, even tho it's gonna be messy now that jaebum knows what really happened in shilla (well, he doesn't know it fully, but yall know it in the next chapter :))))) ). and jinyoung... oh boy. i'll also probably gonna be deciding soon how many chapters this will have in total, because i'm planning to finish it off before september when the school year starts, because i, a person who said she had enough of university for her bacherlor's degrees, am now apparently a journalism student for my master's, rip.  
> anyway, i hope yall liked the chapter, and as always comments, opinions and yells are always welcomed, they give me life!!


	11. Chapter 11

It’s like that, it’s always like that – like a snap of fingers and Jaebum stops seeing everything in front of himself. He doesn’t hear Mark talking anymore, he doesn’t hear the older agent calling his name either. There’s no Mark Tuan in front of Jaebum, there’s no shortcut to the hotel he was about to take, there’s nothing, not even rain.

There’s only one thing for Jaebum now; and that’s pain.

A pain that’s burning him from inside, setting alight every place of his body Jackson has touched, every spot he’s ever kissed. It burns, the realization that he’s been sleeping with a person involved in Bambam’s death, it makes him want to scream; to drop on the ground as a pretentious child after their parents don’t get them the candy they want, and yell.

Perhaps, if he yelled loud enough, he’d eventually yell out the disgust washing over his body. Sure, Jackson didn’t do it himself, in theory, he didn’t even know about Bambam’s existence; and yet, his decisions did kill the Thai boy. And that’s enough of a conclusion for Jaebum.

He closes his eyes, desperately trying to distance himself from everything before he explodes in all the mess of the emotions he’s feeling right now. Mark’s grip on his wrist tightens, as the older man never let the hand go to begin with, he gently pulls Jaebum to walk both of them out – shady trails aren’t the best place to talk things out.

Jaebum almost laughs at one point, feeling like a dog on a leash, this time the leash being his own arm, dragged around and complying with it; passing by places he’s never seen in this area and has never wanted to see.

It’s like Jaebum opened his eyes only after a long while; hours, days or maybe even years later, when he finally is capable enough to focus on a new, unfamiliar place. In reality though, barely half an hour has passed, and the place isn’t so unfamiliar – at least bits of it, details that he’s already seen elsewhere.

It turns out to be a place where Mark is staying at, as far as Jaebum remembers, it’s a small hostel not so far away from the place he always used to cross while going to the beach in the evenings. There’s a small suitcase resting against a wall in the corner – Jaebum has already seen it in Mark’s apartment in Seoul. There are some clothes tossed around here and there, and the sense of familiarity, those small details somehow calms Jaebum down a little.

He spends most of the time simply standing next to a window and not letting out a word; he refuses all Mark’s offers to eat or drink something, or at least take some spare dry clothes and change, because he’s been coughing to begin with and now is also soaking wet from the rain. Jaebum doesn’t mind standing there with his clothes coldly sticking to his skin making him shiver – at least it feels like his body burns with rage less.

Mark doesn’t push him; by now he knows Jaebum way too well not to realize that one step to a wrong direction and there’s going to be an explosion, no matter how ironic this word sounds in a situation like this. One wrong step and Jaebum would shatter into even smaller pieces than he’s already shattered in right now; and if that happens, no one’s ever going to be able to pick those pieces up without hurting both themselves and Jaebum himself in the process.

Mark simply observes the younger agent, while sitting on a corner of the bed on which he actually hasn’t even slept yet. It takes a few long moments for Jaebum to finally turn from the window to him; his eyes are glassy, as if he’d be trying to hide his tears and distress for whatever reason – not like he hasn’t cried in front of Mark, after all – but his stare is surprisingly more bitter than devastated. Mark knows that stare, he’s seen it once – during their first training session, when Mark joked about Bambam, Jaebum looked at him exactly like that.

“How long have you been here?” Jaebum asks, and Mark finds it a little odd that he doesn’t address _the_ topic; it’s like Jaebum would be walking around some other issue, waiting for Mark to slip up for some reason. And yet the American still plays along, because he’s tired of lying.

“Since yesterday evening.”

“I see.” Jaebum’s reply is dry and the next question is full of such scary bitterness, it makes Mark shiver a little. “Where did this whole _I don’t need you to like me, I need you to trust me_ bullshit go?”

“What do you mean?”

Jaebum lets out a laugh. It’s a forced one, a dead one even, there’s absolutely nothing reminding of a normal, natural laughter. “Your suitcase. It has luggage stickers from both Los Angeles and Seoul, dated less than a day apart, so you didn’t suddenly decide to switch flights like you told.”

Mark wholeheartedly curses. He didn’t plan on meeting Jaebum tonight just yet, so he didn’t really care about getting rid of the details that could give him away. He planned to do that tomorrow, since originally today he was supposed only to invisibly accompany Jaebum to the hotel he’s staying in with Wang to make sure he doesn’t bump into any more trouble.

“What happened in Seoul?” Jaebum presses on, angrily, like this would be the only thing he wants to know.

Perhaps he’s acting like that because all this time, Jaebum only had himself to blame – _he_ put Bambam on that mission, _he_ put his signature on those papers; it was only natural to think that _he_ basically killed the Thai kid with his own hands. And now, when there appeared someone, someone Jaebum could freely hate and blame, his brain is having a field day, tearing out pieces of the remainders of Jaebum’s sanity throwing them to the corner of his head; the same one which was glad that it _wasn’t_ his fault and the same one which now directed the rage and suspicion at the first person he sees.

“Is that where you got the photo?”

Mark keeps his stare locked at the floor of the room. He’s aware he’s been acting a little foolishly, to say the least, almost underestimating Jaebum – the latter wasn’t one of the best agents NIS has for nothing. But Jaebum is also gullible, almost too much when it comes to people that somehow earn that trust, and Mark felt uneasy to use this against him in exchange of a few calmer days without questions and accusations that were inevitable in this one.

“No, it wasn’t where I got the photo.” Mark shakes his head, sighing, thinking it’s about damn time he tells the truth. “Listen… there’s a reason why Jackson is acting around me like that.”

Although a little confused as to how it’s related to the photo, Jaebum can’t say he’s stunned. Deep in his heart he knew; he noticed it from the very first second Wang asked about the last name of his “driver”, just that he didn’t pay much attention to it. Now that he’s rewinding all those moments in his head, the ones when all three of them ended up in the same place, Jaebum remembers the tension, the invisible and yet obvious strain which was always brushed off as Wang being territorial with Jaebum.

“Jackson has briefly lived in the States. For an extended training camp, or something like that.” Mark starts feeling a little uneasy about the stare Jaebum is looking at him with, arms crossed on his chest. “He managed to make everyone who knew about this shut up, so you wouldn’t have found anyone who’d know or would’ve been willing to snitch on him. And anyway, those few months don’t seem very relevant in this particular case.”

Jaebum’s silent, even though his lips are itching to throw a sarcastic remark about him being the one to decide what’s relevant in what case.

“Anyway, we met through some mutual friends of ours when I was just fresh out of school, during the first weeks of my agent training. He doesn’t know that,” Mark is quick to add. “I’ve never told anyone where I work, not even my parents. They all, Jackson included, think I was studying physical education,” He bitterly laughs. “But the bottom line is that I eventually became some sort of friends with Jackson too. For a short period.”

“And?”

“That photo… It was taken by me, during one of the parties we were in when I was on a training break because I sprained my ankle. We were drunk, and a few moments later the entire crew you saw in the photo got into a fight. For a girl or something, I don’t really know now. Things got nasty, Jackson’s friends didn’t really spare themselves, and… a person died from all the injuries.” Mark says. “Jackson, of course, dashed out, quickly packed his shit and returned to China, trying to stuff all the witnesses with money so nobody would tell that he was in that party. He won yet another medal, so everything was forgotten.”

Jaebum raises his eyebrow, “So you think he’s scared about you spilling shit about his past?”

Mark shrugs. “He never fully trusted me, that entire time. Perhaps it was because I always hung out with him only when I didn’t have any other option and didn’t really like most of his friends, because they just weren’t good people… But maybe Jackson’s really scared, maybe he’s just bitter about that one person he didn’t swoon in the States – it can be anything.”

Jaebum is quiet for a while, thinking and trying to process this information he’s never expected to hear. And when he finally opens his mouth, his words are clear of any emotion; it’s much like those times when he’s scolding someone in NIS for being unprofessional, and after that everyone gets out of his office feeling embarrassed and so, so small. Mark’s not an exception, just that they’re not in Jaebum’s office and this is more important than a lost document or misspelled last name in some paper.

“And how on this fucking earth you, a whole damn _CIA_ agent, a top-notch one as far as your higher-up are always bragging, never thought about… I don’t know… _Telling this to us_?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

Jaebum’s laugh this time is not dead, it’s cruel. “You didn’t think it was important? Then what on earth _did_ you think, going on a fucking mission when the suspect _knows_ you? You got beaten up by his people two weeks into it, and you still it’s a children’s play where you can hide stuff like that, because you _don’t think it’s relevant_?”

Jaebum isn’t even sure why he’s so mad right now – about being lied to, about the photo, or about Mark being so reckless and stupid. For what? To protect Jaebum, because no else would’ve agreed to be paired up with him? Jaebum has never thought he’d be worth someone doing this for him, so this thought is immediately discarded in his mind.

“I didn’t get beaten up because Jackson’s still bitter about the past.” Mark firmly says. “Believe it or not, you really did a good job on wrapping him around your finger, and least in a superficial way. He was always like that – he hated if his people hung out with other people. And he considers you his. Add that to the fact that he knows me, and I happen to be around you a lot, and you’ll understand how his mind works.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were in Seoul before coming here and later lied about this. That doesn’t even explain how you knew that the guys in the photo are the same ones in Shilla.” Jaebum mumbles, this time less strictly.

Mark figures Jaebum won’t pat him on the back for what he’s going to say, but if he decided to say the truth tonight, that’s what he’s going to stick with. For the most part, at least. “I took all the documents related to that happening in Shilla hotel to read on my own. I saw the photos of the mobsters, and some of those faces rang a bell.”

“Why did you do that? The case was closed a long time ago, there was no one to punish, they all died in the explosion.” _Just like Bambam_ , Jaebum wants to add, but he doesn’t. The anger is slowly wearing off, it always does because his anger is like matches – sparking up fast and intensely but fading away just as easily. Now he’s more tired than angry, in need to think about everything all over again, to let it finally sink in and be able to create a new plan for himself.

Mark however, doesn’t rush to answer. “How long have you known Jinyoung?” He asks instead, catching Jaebum off guard and making him frown.

“Around three years, why is that important now?” Jaebum answers, now pacing back and forth the room instead of sitting down, so Mark only follows him with his eyes.

Mark shrugs. “I’m just trying to make sure I can trust him. If you do, I do too.”

Jaebum finds this sentence weird, it’s like Mark is trying to hint at something, but not wanting to say it out loud. “I do trust him, he’s one of my closest colleagues and friends. If not for him, I probably would’ve been fired a few weeks ago.”

Jaebum’s is honest with Mark too, he can give him that now after Mark has told everything he’s been hiding; he tells him about forged medical screenings and how Yugyeom allowed him to pull this stunt from his computer, since he’s one of the few having an authorized connection to that particular server. Jaebum tells him about Jinyoung finding this out and their deal. Mark doesn’t look surprised – not in a way like he’d expect Jaebum to be this insane to go such lengths for something; he simply understands the situation way too well by now.

“If you trust him, then I trust that he knows what he’s doing too.” Mark repeats, trying to convince himself with it.

He still can’t forget the way Jinyoung looked at him in that corridor, that scary, vicious stare; and the cold voice with which he openly implied Mark should stay silent about what he heard if he wants Jaebum to return to Seoul safe. That’s the main reason why Mark is here in Bangkok now – to make sure that if trouble finds Jaebum again, he’d at least not be alone.

“You don’t have to.” Jaebum says, finally sitting down next to him on the only bed Mark has in this room. “Like they said in the training, trust no one, not even your friends. You don’t have to trust Jinyoung just because I do. My judgement may be flawed.”

Mark looks at him with a slight smile, tugging his lip corners up in a very familiar way to Jaebum, but the smile is still somehow sad. “I think it’s time to stop living according to those fucked up rules, otherwise we’ll end up like emotionless, empty robots.” In reality, while he does mean his every word, it’s more to ease Jaebum, to keep the unnecessary suspicions away – Mark can take care of those for him. “But do you trust _me_? After all this shit.”

Mark is afraid of a negative answer, keeping away the fact that you were some sorts of friends with a person who indirectly killed one of your best friends perhaps isn’t the best idea given the context; but Jaebum only sighs, slightly nodding. He does trust Mark, he knows the American agent isn’t a bad person himself and was just doing what he thinks is the best.

Perhaps that’s why Jaebum isn’t startled or terribly confused, when Mark puts his arm around his shoulders and brings him closer, so Jaebum could rest his head on the older agent’s shoulder. Jaebum feels warm all of a sudden, like the temperature from the refreshing evening warmth would’ve been upped to scorching heat. Mark feels the same it seems, judging from the way his cheeks are slightly pink and it makes Jaebum smile a little; just a little before his mind wanders off back to Jackson, Bambam and all his past demons.

Jaebum has always told himself he doesn’t need love, that he doesn’t need to be in love. All he wants is to be comfortable.

And Mark does bring him that comfort.

 

Jaebum wakes up only the next morning, for the first time in a long while, especially this stay in Thailand, his sleep is so deep and undisturbed by any nightmares, it feels like a miracle to him. They ended up sharing the bed with Mark last night, bodies awkwardly clashed together, but they’re almost used to that – it’s their second time sharing a bed after all. Mark is still sleeping, when Jaebum cracks his eyes open thanks to his phone buzzing in vibration.

The caller ID says it’s Yugyeom.

“Yes?” He almost whispers into the phone after picking up, because he’s too sleepy to get out of the bed, but too careful to risk waking Mark up.

“Hyung?” Yugyeom’s voice seems unsure about something, almost like he didn’t expect that Jaebum will pick up. “Can you talk?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” it’s too late, Mark slowly starts waking up, opening his eyes already full of confusion, because the clock on the wall shows just a little bit before 7 AM.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re coming back to Seoul this early?” Yugyeom asks. “Everyone’s going crazy again, because we were already planning to dispatch agents there in Bangkok, especially now after this whole Choi Youngjae mess.”

Jaebum has to take a moment to process all the words his younger colleague is spitting into the phone; he’s so confused it takes him a while to connect the dots between the discrepancies. “I’m… Not going to Seoul early. Wang moved to another hotel, how he said, for safety reasons because he doesn’t want media following me around, so I’m just waiting for an update from him.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end of the line. “Hyung…” Yugyeom starts and Jaebum already knows it’s nothing good. “Wang left for Seoul just now, Thai immigration authorities just did a security check on him in the airport, he’s flying to Korea. We thought you’re with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally entering the Big Things. mark actually knows jackson, jackson ditched his holiday and left jaebum in thailand, god damn it, this is gonna b truly messy but!! markbum are developing feelings now that jaebum didn't snap his head off after this whole confession, jaebum's /finally/ comfortable around him to the point he actually remembers the word "love", we love character development, at this rate they gonna kiss in the next update.  
> we have like 3 chapters left, maybe 4 (i set this to 14 chapters, but if the situation arises, i think it might be extended to 15), so buckle up pals, it's gonna get even more intense but also... confession time. i have a daytime job from 8 to 5, every day and i'm basically dead tired by now, this update is the shortest one i've ever wrote for this story because it honestly feels like i'm gonna die if i write something more; so i was thinking whether to post shorter updates but to keep my somewhat consistent-ish uploading every other week, or to write longer ones but even rarer than twice a month. i haven't fully figured this out, but my heart is leaning towards the longer updates, so if you have something to say abt that let me know either here or on my twitter @paradisebbom (if you're a shy folk, i also have a curiouscat link in my twitter, so hmu anonymously lol)
> 
> BUT ANYWAY i hope yall liked this tired mess, and comments and everything are very welcomed


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, seems like this twitter break is doing me good, i haven't written this much without wanting to fling myself off a cliff from exhaustion in a /long/ while.  
> i was kind of listening to aurora's winter bird (what a damn irony lmao) writing this, and this line "all i need is to remember how it was to feel alive" made me feel a lot, so basically this chapter will deal heavily with jaebum's memories, and mayhaps listening to the song will add some extra spice to the tears you might shed lol

“What do you mean Wang left for Seoul, why would he even—” Jaebum says, already feeling a knot of uncertainty and anxiety forming in his stomach. Mark, still half asleep next to him, tilts his head trying to hear better.

Yugyeom’s voice gets a little louder for the reply, as Jaebum can hear other people talking next to his younger colleague, someone’s yelling – that someone’s voice reminds of Jinyoung and Jaebum isn’t surprised at that, not at all. “Wang passed airport security and the immigration office to board the plane. Naturally, we thought you should be with him or at least appear soon after, but you… Well, didn’t. Where are you now?”

Jaebum spares a glance at Mark, who’s now sitting up in the tiny bed they’re sharing, all awake and alert; in a way, it’s like asking for a permission of some sorts, making sure it’s okay to tell they’re together. Not for Yugyeom – Jaebum has always been too full of pride and ideas about age hierarchy to explain details that aren’t necessary – more for himself.

Jaebum is trying to ask himself if it’s okay, to admit that Mark Tuan has followed him across half of the globe, that Mark does care more than most of their colleagues for some reason. But Jaebum is afraid, _still_ afraid of getting attached to someone; he’s afraid of a lot of things, and most importantly, he’s afraid of himself.

“In the hotel.” His reply is short, and he remembers Jinyoung once saying that Jaebum always preferred gaps in truth than lies. Mark doesn’t say anything, and Jaebum is quick to change the topic. “What’s now?”

His question, however, is met with a heavy sigh. “I wish I’d knew.” Yugyeom’s voice gets even more serious. “We’re planning to dispatch a few agents in Incheon to follow Wang undercover from the very second he lands, since his plane is about to take off pretty soon. You’re going to get back to Seoul, too, however, there’s a slight problem with that.”

Jaebum almost starts laughing – it’s like nothing is ever supposed to go smoothly for him. “And what is it this time?” He asks, voice full of sarcasm.

“There’s a storm making its way to Thailand and a lot of flights in the area are getting cancelled due to bad weather conditions. Wang, speaking both figuratively and literally, jumped into the last plane, not without connections, perhaps.” Jaebum looks at the clock, it’s a little after 7 AM. It must be one hell of a storm coming if they’re cancelling flights this early. “I’ll need to check with the higher-ups how to get you the earliest flight ticket possible. I’ll call you back when I know something.”

“Two tickets.”

It’s as if Yugyeom doesn’t quite catch it, already midsentence to say goodbye, when it finally dawns on the younger. “Wait, what? Why do you need two tickets?”

“Mark’s with me.”

Mark’s ticket back to Seoul is dated a week later; he isn’t that dumb to change his route without having a guarantee that he’ll have a way to return where he needs to be, however, no one expected they’re going to come back this early. They don’t have that luxury of one more week.

Yugyeom doesn’t question this at all – he doesn’t see the point, because he knows Jaebum well enough to know that his friend will explain him absolutely nothing. So he only mumbles, “I’ll see what I can do. Whatever you’re doing there, don’t do anything stupid and dangerous. We don’t need any more casualties.”

“When have I ever done something stupid and dangerous?” Jaebum asks as an attempt to lighten up the mood, but Yugyeom isn’t amused; he lets out another sigh and hangs up.

There’s silence in the room, filled only with sounds of the place they’re staying at. Someone’s walking back and forth in the corridor, probably moving out judging from the sound reminding of wheels of a suitcase. Through an open window you can see some birds chirping here and there, anxiously flying back and forth in the sky that’s slowly getting darker and darker despite it being the early hours of the morning.

Jaebum can see a few baby swallows flying around rather low, and he remembers his late grandfather saying that if swallows are not reaching for the very heights of the sky, it means there’s going to be some heavy rain. It makes Jaebum smile a little, the sight of the swallows and the memory of how his grandparents used to call him their little swallow, as Jaebum couldn’t pronounce his name right when he was a kid*; he hasn’t thought about his childhood in a while now, and memories somehow warm up his heavy heart.

“It’s nice.” Mark says suddenly and Jaebum questioningly turns to him, feeling their shoulders brushing against each other.

“What is?”

“Seeing you smile,” Mark’s reply is casual, but Jaebum still feels strange, like he’s about to get embarrassed. “It doesn’t happen often.”

Jaebum doesn’t know what to say to this, he’s never liked to talk about himself much, so his first instinct is to change the topic completely. “So, you heard what Yugyeom told.”

“Yeah, I did. What do you think happened that Wang decided to bolt out of the country so suddenly?”

Jaebum shrugs, running his fingers through the knots his hair formed during a night of constant tossing and turning around; he’s never been a deep sleeper, but it feels like it’s getting worse and worse over the time, even a tiniest sound making him crack his eyes open over and over again.

“I have no idea, it doesn’t even feel like Wang, to be honest. Sure, he’s disgusting and a piece of trash,” honestly Jaebum is pleasantly surprised by himself, how relatively calm he is while talking about a person who indirectly killed one of his best friends. But perhaps it’s because that particular piece of news killed all the anger left in Jaebum – now he feels absolutely nothing, and that’s probably way worse than being just angry. It’s like being a lifeless robot, seeking for mechanical justice. “But it’s unlike him to run away like that, he sticks to his plans.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Mark says. “He’s a coward – he ran away from Los Angeles as soon as possible when he wasn’t even involved in that fight. Running away from Thailand when he’s one of the center figures of a major scandal together with Choi wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Mark does have a point, but Jaebum is still deep in thought trying to find another explanation. “But why would he even do this, if we were right and he was planning to bury Choi under shit from the beginning? He should stay here and keep giving interviews that he has nothing to do with this, asides from being a poor businessman with a heart too pure to see the evil in people, especially his own kind of best friend and assistant. It doesn’t make sense.”

“We might’ve been wrong about this tax scheme. Maybe Choi is really a bad guy on his own.” However, even the sound of this is ridiculous. Choi Youngjae, helplessly in love with his boss and good friend, only trying to protect what’s dear to him, being pushed around like a chess figure in Wang’s games – it just doesn’t make sense.

They spend the day waiting for news – about Wang returning to Seoul, about Wang gone missing, about Wang _anything_ , and yet the news don’t come. Both of the guys get out of the bed, take a shower, Mark even makes himself a bowl of cereal, which Jaebum refuses. The entire early afternoon passes in the exact same way – nervously pacing back and forth while looking at their phones and witnessing the storm finally unfolding, dark gray clouds finally taking over the sky with angry thunders and blinding lightning, accompanied by heavy streaks of cold rain, as if someone would be splashing buckets of water all at once.

Jaebum’s phone starts buzzing just before midday, when he’s lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, and Mark is standing next to the window, looking through a pile of postcards that someone, perhaps a former guest or staff left on the windowsill. Mark’s attention gets caught by one of the postcards – it’s a very simple one, only black letters on a white rectangle, but Mark thinks how ironically fitting it is, a poem that’s written on it –

 

_During my days as a wounded soldier_

_Another wounded soldier_

_Lay in the next bed over_

_So I was grateful._

_In other words,_

_When you were wounded_

_I was there with you,_

_My friend._

Mark smiles a little, folding the postcard in half and swiftly putting it into the back pocket of his pants, while Jaebum is busy picking up the phone call.

“Listen up.” This time it’s Jinyoung who’s on the other end of the line, sounding terribly pissed off, what doesn’t come as a surprise, so Jaebum doesn’t saying anything about his voice tone. “We couldn’t get anything at all, especially not two tickets all at once, because other people are flooding the airport for their delayed flights, too. Though I’d really like to know why I have to put double effort into something when Tuan was supposed to sit his ass in Seoul and follow the orders instead of running off Bangkok to pat you on the shoulder like in a kindergarten.” His voice doesn’t get any warmer upon mentioning the American agent even though from the very beginning, Jinyoung was the one to have a better relationship with Mark. “So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to stay in Bangkok for two more days, we only got tickets for Thursday. Take a nice walk, see the local life or something, we can’t bring you back any earlier. Someone suggested to go full scale and ask the Thai government for help, but we’d need to tell them the whole drill behind this mission and I’m not willing to take risks.”

“So because you, one of the best NIS agents, are _afraid_ , you simply suggest me to sit here and go _sightsee_?”

“Any better ideas? Perhaps you know where to get a flying carpet in Thailand or how to turn into a bird?” Jinyoung doesn’t wait even a second to bite back. “Suggestions are always welcomed. There’s nothing here for you do to anyway. Wang’s probably going to get out of the public sight once he gets back, and we released Choi, too.”

Jaebum gets a little confused. “Why did you release him?”

“He kept saying he doesn’t know anything about Wang other than what he’s already told – and that’s absolutely nothing that we couldn’t find with a simple check – and doesn’t admit evading taxes either, telling it’s a mistake. So the higher-ups told us to release him, since they wanted to have, how they said, _civil_ interrogations this time around, no violence.” Jinyoung snorts like he wouldn’t approve this idea. He’s always had very specific views on what lines are okay to cross for justice. “So we had to let him go. You know yourself that legally we can’t keep them for longer than a week if we don’t have evidence.”

Jaebum doesn’t notice how he raises his voice. “We’re fucking _National Intelligence Service,_ we can keep whoever we want for however long we want, it’s not like we haven’t done this before! And yet _now_ you all just have to fuck it up by following your idiot rules, don’t you? Choi is our only fucking link to seeing what Wang is up to.”

“You’re only a part of the National Intelligence Service because I kept my mouth shut about your precious stunts with medical records, so you’re going to stop yelling at me like a pretentious asshole and sit your ass in Bangkok until I say otherwise.” Jinyoung says coldly, and his voice cuts like a knife. “I’ll email the plane tickets to you sometime soon. That’s all.”

Jinyoung’s word is final – and that’s how Jaebum only sighs, turning to Mark to say that he needs to return to the hotel he’s been staying at with Wang, to at least take his clothes and move in with Mark to wait through those two upcoming days. Upon the arrival to the hotel, the receptionist doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the sight of Mark, giving what Jaebum is supposed to take as a discreet smile; she only briefly mentions that Jackson was searching for him late last night, but after failing to find him, he simply left.

It’s odd, especially when all Jackson’s belongings are left behind untouched, even his wallet, as if he would’ve taken only his passport to return to Korea. But things have been strange for a while now.

 

Mark and Jaebum spend most of those two days making short trips to the nearest convenience store in order not to starve, and maybe short walks around when the storm finally starts fizzling out and the temperature rises back with such force it’s sometimes impossible to stay in Mark’s hostel room, to which Jaebum moves into, and which doesn’t have air conditioning.

It’s like a game of some sorts, a game of who will act the most normal, who will pretend better that it’s some kind of leisure trip and absolutely nothing serious or dangerous. They chat about the weather and gossip about people they see passing by. They heat up their food in convenience stores’ microwaves, so it wouldn’t taste like paper completely, Mark buys Jaebum cheap and tasteless instant coffee while the latter returns the favor and hands him a stack of childish bunny stickers he’s found on sale for less than 50 baht.

All this with Jaebum’s mind occasionally drifting away to think how strangely, and ridiculously at the same time, it’s easy to be around Mark – to talk about nothing, do nothing, to exchange approximately three words in a few hours and not feel awkward about that. To watch one evening how Mark, stubborn to not fall asleep first, is trying and failing to keep his eyes open, only to tell him to go shower while Jaebum makes the bed, as they’re still sharing it.

Before falling asleep though, Mark turns to Jaebum who’s still going through his phone, one earphone in his hear, and says, “Tomorrow’s our last day here. What do you want to do?”

Jaebum doesn’t answer. He puts the phone down, pausing the music upon the question. He doesn’t say it out loud, he’s probably never even mentioned the place; however, his mind is set – during those periods of silence he had with Mark, he thought about it a lot, even more often than he used to before. And Jaebum has finally conclude that it doesn’t matter if it breaks him – he has to go.

Mark understands his silence, subconsciously he was probably even expecting this. That’s why he only nods, putting his warm hand on top of Jaebum’s wrist for a brief comfort. It’s too hot, borderline uncomfortable for any physical contact, however, Jaebum doesn’t move his hand away until he falls asleep.

And that’s how next afternoon they end up in cemetery. It doesn’t take long for Jaebum to remember the exact place – even though in foreign language, he knows the sounds of it by heart; taxi driver even compliments his Thai skills. The rain completely stops for the first time in weeks perhaps, as if indicating that Jaebum has made the right decision. Mark is there too – at first, he felt rather awkward, but there was something in Jaebum’s voice when the told the American to stop being ridiculous about not going and get dressed. Something that made it less of a request and more of a plea to have his back in case Jaebum can’t deal with this alone.

It looks different from what Jaebum is used to in his home country, the only cemetery he’s ever visited, where his grandparents are laid to rest are colorless mostly with white or black tombstones. This place is strangely full of colors, almost looking alive – Jaebum can see tombstones with red, yellow or green details, some darker ones too, contrasting with the rest, and for a while he stays still and keeps looking around, trying to memorize every single detail of a place where his best friend is spending the eternity in.

He’s not lost, Jaebum knows exactly where to go, he’s done his research as soon as he could, because he couldn’t do anything else – he couldn’t just barge into Bambam’s family house and tell that he’s his best friend without explaining a lot of things, which he didn’t want to lie about. Bambam’s family has been lied to too much already. Jaebum is simply trying to take deep breaths to gather courage to move on. Mark wordlessly stands just a few steps behind him as if saying that the choice whether to proceed or go back is his and he won’t be judged for neither.

Jaebum proceeds.

He has always imagined that the day when he sees Bambam’s grave will be the day when he’s healed enough to remain calm and composed; that he’ll be mature enough to accept that people die, that friends die, too. For a brief moment it feels like he succeeds – even thought there’s a knot in his throat choking him, he manages to put flowers on Bambam’s grave, a small bouquet of tatarian asters, and change the candles, put out by the rain but signifying that someone’s been here recently enough, into new ones.

However, when Jaebum stands up after lighting the candles and looks at Bambam’s full Thai name engraved into dark stone, as well as his birth and death dates, thinking how his friend is forever stuck at being twenty, Jaebum gets reminded that he’s only a twenty-five year old guy, who’s seen too many people dying; too many people dear to him going and never returning, and that Bambam’s death is his life’s turning point.

The sky looks like it’s about to rain again, but all the rain gathers in Jaebum’s eyes instead. All the moments he’s spent together with Bambam start flashing in front of his eyes, hitting him with such a force, it hard for him to breathe.

_Bambam signing transfer papers the next day after he almost broke Jaebum’s nose; the first time Jaebum has taken Bambam to a shooting range to train him and how nervously Bambam admitted he’s never learned how to shoot properly because he despises guns. The way Bambam had always made faces behind Jaebum’s back when the older agent lectured him about mission safety; all the pranks Bambam had ever pulled on Jinyoung and Jaebum, and how once Jaebum didn’t talk to him for a week after Bambam convinced Yugyeom to hack Jaebum’s phone, put “Barbie girl” as his ringtone and turn off his silent mode, calling him during a meeting with higher-ups. Bambam, tearing up thinking Jaebum will really never talk to him ever again after the latter, cheeks wine red, had to listen to relentless teasing about his ringtone._

_Bambam brightly laughing in the morning of the day they went to Shilla for the last time._

_Bambam’s face, scrunched in concentration, trying to guess where Wang’s people will hit, so he could counterattack._

_Bambam’s surprise seeing the explosives._

_Bambam, already planning his 21 st birthday a few months in advance; the birthday that never came. _

Jaebum’s quiet tears eventually turn into sobs he cannot suppress anymore; it’s as if everything he has tied down into a bundle and tossed into the deepest corner of his head explodes all at once, tears blinding him completely.

Jaebum can’t see anything, he can only feel – the grief, the sadness, desperation and anger; Mark’s hands around him, offering a clumsy attempt to console and share the burden, letting Jaebum scream about unfairness of life into his shoulder until the words turn back into helpless sobs again; until long minutes later, tears are starting to dry.

“I shouldn’t be here, and he shouldn’t be there.” Jaebum finally mumbles, voice jarring like sandpaper against wood from crying so much. “It should be the opposite, but he died for me, _because_ of me. He’s always been like this, he might’ve looked flashy and loud, but he was always the kindest and the most perceptive one.”

“There’s a saying,” Mark opens his mouth for the first time here. “If someone dies for you, you have to live for them. Bambam knew what he was doing, and he wouldn’t have wanted to see you blaming yourself for this for the rest of the life.”

Only then Jaebum realizes that he’s still holding Mark’s hand, even though he’s long out of his embrace. He returns there though, to Mark’s arms – it’s the only way he can give the American everything he’s bad at expressing with words. Mark’s tiptoeing a little, placing a quick but warm kiss on Jaebum’s forehead, assuring it’s going to be okay; Jaebum’s going to be okay.

It’s funny a little, Jaebum thinks, when both of them jump away from each other like burned, blushing in embarrassment, how Bambam before his death told there’s a person he wants Jaebum to meet, and how the topic of Bambam’s death brought Mark and Jaebum together; as if someone, some higher powers are pulling the strings in heaven.

 

_“For the last time, Kunpimook Bhuwakul, if you don’t stop pestering me, I’ll demote you to a janitor.” Jaebum growls, burying his face into his palms, because Bambam’s been sitting in his office for the past hour, excitedly talking about some friend of his, who would be a perfect match for Jaebum. “And you can kiss this mission goodbye.”_

_It’s two days before the final mission in Shilla._

_“Wow, you’re really pulling the full name card on me again.” Bambam yawns, unimpressed. “I’m just trying to save your tragic love life, be thankful. Hyung.” He quickly adds when Jaebum’s sharp eyes crack open to burn him with a death glare. “Seriously, at this point you’re going to marry your file folder, I swear to god. You need to go out, meet new people, fall in love, all that!”_

_Jaebum sighs, putting his paperwork away. He hasn’t been on a proper date in months, the last time he tried it went terribly – the girl he went to a blind date with turned out to be working in their Human Resources department, and she ended up asking if Jaebum could get her Jinyoung’s phone number._

_It’s not like he’s desperate – Jaebum enjoys being busy at work, the past month especially, because they’re nearing the end of the case with Chinese mobsters they’ve been eyeing for a good month now. Only two more days and he’ll be able to get some vacation days, and maybe, just maybe, remember that sometimes even Im Jaebum needs some romance in his life, kisses and hugs, sugary nicknames and flirting._

_“Okay,” Jaebum eventually gives in. “I’ll go on that stupid date after we finish the Shilla case, just stop fucking bringing it up and go tell Jinyoung’s lazy ass to come here. Now that he’s responsible for the communication of the mission, I need him to confirm some details of the plan. There are some weak spots in the draft.”_

_“Speaking about Jinyoung hyung, though…” Bambam’s mood shifts a little, but Jaebum dismisses it, just like the fact that the Thai kid calls Jinyoung hyung, but completely forgets the honorifics when it comes to him. “He’s kind of… Weird lately.”_

_“When hasn’t Jinyoung been weird?”_

_Bambam takes an apple from a fruit bowl on Jaebum’s desk – administration’s latest and the most desperate attempt to stop their agents from living off junk food all the time – and replies looking at the fruit, not the eyes of his friend. “Yeah, but weirder than usual. A few days ago I walked in on him and Yugyeom arguing and it was pretty bad.”_

_Jaebum doesn’t seem surprised at all. Yugyeom and Jinyoung bickering isn’t a new thing, they’re fed up with their banters already. However, for Bambam to describe it as pretty bad…_

_“What were they arguing about?”_

_“I don’t know.” Bambam shrugs. “I remember Yugyeom telling that if Jinyoung hyung won’t tell it to someone himself, he will. And then Jinyoung hyung told that if Yugyeom’s going to open his mouth, he won’t be responsible for the consequences.”_

_“What’s the “it” you’re talking about?”_

_Bambam doesn’t know and doesn’t manage to loudly tell his guesses, because both of the mentioned guys barge into Jaebum’s office bantering about something harmless again; he gets so awkward, that the only thing he thing he can think of doing is taking a bite of the apple._

_“Bambam eating something healthy, am I dreaming?” Yugyeom notes, his words followed by a lighthearted laugh._

_“Symbolic even.” Jinyoung agrees. “Bambam and apples, it’s like he’s committing a sin to his own beliefs by eating something that’s not Subway’s cookies.” Clearly, nobody gets the reference, so Jinyoung only sighs and rolls his eyes, “Seriously, do any of you know how to read? The original sin, a snake and an apple? No, never heard of it?”_

_Bambam stands up to go, excusing himself that he’s late with his own errands, saying, “Is it one those weird Christian myths of yours or something?”_

_“It shouldn’t take a genius to find out that apples can mean a fall of a man, when your name literally means a snake in this language.”_

_“I don’t want to be involved with any snakes of yours, not even mythical ones, hyung, keep it.” Bambam says, waving them goodbye, however, all of them laugh at his obvious annoyance about not fully knowing something. He’s so annoyed, he even leaves the apple behind, making Jaebum later finish eating it, because he doesn’t want to waste food._

_Now that Jaebum’s rewinding it in his head though, something feels strange – he remembers how Jinyoung was the only one who briefly smiled at Bambam’s words of not wanting to get involved with snakes and didn’t laugh at all._

Mark and Jaebum barely talk for the rest of the day and their flight back to Seoul – and they certainly don’t mention holding hands or the kiss. Jaebum went to pack his clothes and sleep almost immediately after returning to the hostel and Mark didn’t pester him – he even slept on the floor this time.

They go to the NIS headquarters after landing in Incheon, without even taking care of their suitcases – their things end up getting dropped off in Jaebum’s office before going to check up how the progress of this case is going, or if there’s any at all to begin with.

“Well isn’t this the dream team of ours.” Jinyoung mumbles, when both of the agents walk into the briefing room, just before a short meeting, but he doesn’t sound mad this time, his voice is careful, but tired this time, if anything. “Sit down somewhere, we’ll fill you in on the things you’ve probably missed while being in Thailand.”

Jinyoung’s tired voice is sure a stark contrast to everyone else in the room, getting lively while exchanging glances and mumbles about who could’ve thought that Mark and Jaebum would ever get so close to voluntary be next to each other, but both of the agents try to ignore the looks.

“So where’s Choi now?” Mark calmly asks, trying not to look directly at Jinyoung, not forgetting their last conversation. Jaebum askes the same question at the same time, just about Jackson, and it makes Jinyoung bitterly smile.

“Birds of a feather, truly.” He says. “Very well then, let’s talk about those two. Choi is doing his usual stuff – hiding after the scandal, our people are still watching him, we gave him a little goodbye gift by tapping his phone and giving him a tail to follow him everywhere. But all he does every day is walking his dog, going to a store to get groceries and visiting his lawyer, normal and borderline boring.”

“And Wang?” Jaebum repeats, wondering if Jinyoung actually knows that Jackson is related to Bambam’s death, or whether Jinyoung even cares about that anymore. He probably was one of the few ones in NIS, and definitely the only one in their friend circle who moved on so fast.

“That’s where it gets tricky, we don’t know. NIS dispatched two agents to follow him after landing in Seoul, but they lost him on their way. He’s good at running away, as we already know. But he won’t be hiding for a long time, he has a few schedules for the upcoming week and seeing how they’re not cancelled yet…”

There’s nothing much else to say – NIS employees know approximately as much as Jaebum and Mark do, in some aspects, maybe even less, so the meeting doesn’t last that long. After everyone’s gone from the room, only Mark and Jaebum remains in their place, tired from the events of the past days and a long flight; Jinyoung comes up to Jaebum before going out and awkwardly says, “Listen, I’m… I’m sorry for how I talked back then. This place is a mess, Wang and Choi and a mess, I was just tired and angry. No hard feelings. Good day to you too, Tuan.”

Mark throws him only a short, “Good afternoon, agent Park.” and even before Jaebum can reply anything to this quick apology, Jinyoung leaves, saying he has a lot of paperwork and research to do.

Mark opens his mouth to say something but gets cut off by Jaebum’s phone buzzing right in front of them, and Jaebum gets surprised, to say the least, because the caller ID is Jackson’s. The phone rings a few more times before the call gets automatically declined, then Wang tries again.

“Go for it,” Mark says, seeing Jackson’s number flashing up on the screen for the third time. “See what he wants.”

Jaebum listens, answering the call with a curt, “What?”, which fits the superficial situation rather well – a pissed off lover being left alone in a foreign country without any notice.

“We need to talk.” Jackson says, but Jaebum can barely understand it. it seems like Wang is somewhere in a windy place, gusts of wind harshly crashing into the speaker of Jackson’s phone.

“We sure do.” Jaebum replies, but can’t say anything more, as Wang cuts him off and tells him the address, adding him to hurry, because he’s busy. It’s as if he already knew Jaebum is in Korea before calling; and if he knows Jaebum is back to Korea, he probably knows that he didn’t come back alone, what makes Jaebum uneasy.

However, after that Wang hangs up, leaving Jaebum in confusion.

“Are you really going?” Mark asks once Jaebum puts his phone down; he, of course, heard the entire conversation.

“Do I have any other choice? It will be fine, just a short meeting to listen to his newest bullshit, I’m used to those, unfortunately.” Jaebum says, standing up and looking at the clock, which shows 4 PM. “I’m going to be back in a few hours, if I’m not back here by 7 PM, send backup to the address.”

Mark reluctantly nods, not really enjoying this idea at all and offering to at least take a gun with himself, but when Jaebum tells him to stop being ridiculous, he only sighs. “Just be safe, then. I don’t want to…” He stops for a brief moment, but when Jaebum looks at him, he says only, “I don’t want any more fuckery here.”

Jaebum also looks like he’s hesitating to say something, changing his mind only seconds before reaching the door. “Once I get back, we need to talk about… some things.” It takes enormous strength for Jaebum to hide his shady voice, as he’s suddenly nervous about bringing it up, but it works well for the most part, because Mark smiles and gives him a thumbs up.

“Sure thing.”

Jaebum takes one of NIS cars, not bother enough to waste time going back to his apartment to take his; he’s already midway to the address Wang told him when a text message from the latter informs him about changed plans and another address.

“For crying out loud.” Jaebum mumbles after series of curses, tossing his phone back on the passenger seat and making a turn back, because the new location is on the other side of the city. He tries to think of a reason why would Jackson need to meet him this urgently – to apologize? To pretend that nothing’s happened and take him out on a date? Break up with him?

However, Jaebum get a little surprised and taken aback when after parking his car, he realizes he’s next to one of Jackson’s warehouses, the one of the few they’ve actually inspected, so he at least is aware of the surroundings, even though his memories about this one are a little faint.

Jaebum gets out of the car a little nervous, because the parking lot is completely empty. It looks like there’s absolutely no one around – not even Wang, so the only conclusion that comes into Jaebum’s mind is that he was either pranked or Jackson’s somewhere in the building, not seeing a particular need to come take him. The security alarm on the main door isn’t turned on, so someone’s definitely inside – and Jaebum invites himself in, already tired of this strange meeting.

Jaebum decides that it would seem rather weird, for a person who supposedly has no clue Wang even owns this, to find the main office from the first attempt, so he spends some time walking and looking around. It gives off an eerie feeling, all the empty storage space and empty offices, with Jaebum’s footsteps lightly echoing in the background.

After a while, it feels like Jaebum is actually getting lost in the maze of rooms and stairs, because he can’t tell from which way he came here anymore; a few minutes after trying to at least find an exit, he decides to call Wang, because he’s clearly not going to find him here, but his heart drops without even managing to reach his phone in the pocket, feeling something cold against the back of his head. A gun.

A voice says, “Well good afternoon, Im Jaebum.” almost next to his ear, but that voice, although very familiar, doesn’t belong to Jackson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, first things first
> 
> the piece marked with * - it's a wordplay in korean, because i'm lame ok. basically a swallow in korean is 제비 (romanized as jebi i think, we've never been taught romanization at school, rip), and it kind of sounds like a very badly mispronounced name of jaebum's, so i put it in his childhood, because once again, i am lame and this sounded like a good idea  
> the poem mark read - it's korean poet's kim namjo's poem "Days Of Wounded Soldiers", i just shortened it to fit the narrative better  
> also big shoutout to my friend zen, who advised me to go with tatarian asters for the flowers jaebum brought to the cemetery, because it means "i won't forget you" in flower language
> 
> i think that's all i needed to address for this one, oof. the shit's FINALLY HITTING THE FAN, FOLKS, we're here for big reveals! is jinyoung really an asshole? is there anything else mark hasn't told about jackson? why did jackson really leave thailand and why did he ask to meet up with jaebum? what is jaebum gonna talk about with mark when (if) he comes back and who the fuck is threatening jaebum with a gun? stay tuned, pals! 
> 
> ALSO WE HAVE A DAMN SORT OF KISS and that's a win in this fic after 55k of hating each other and suffering. and also, now it's officially the longest fic i've ever written, and we're not even done yet, oh my god
> 
> okay, time to stop screaming, i hope you guys are doing well, and liked this long piece of messy mess, and comments are always welcomed, as well as theories of what's gonna happen next, i live for those.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i'm alive. i thought i have my shit together but i've clearly underestimated the holy trinity of a full-time 9-5 office job, full time master's studies and personal turmoils, so i'm shamelessly crawling back after... a whole month. but here we are!
> 
> good old tw warnings are back: blood, also explicit descriptions of blood, someone dies; that's about it
> 
> listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfLOt5P6nSk) while reading, it may add something to the text, as this was written heavily looping the song, because it's just so. fitting lmao

Jaebum, standing with a gun against the back of his head, can’t help but have flashbacks; some of them make no sense and he can’t really pick them apart, however some are so, so clear now – his dream about Jinyoung strangling him in Shilla, Mark asking if Jinyoung can be trusted, Jinyoung not laughing while Bambam is talking about snakes; and Jaebum wants to laugh himself now, oddly. Jinyoung would truly fit the bad guy role here, given his antics.

But it seems like Mark distrusted the wrong person, after all, and Jaebum trusted the wrong one, too.

“You still haven’t learned how to hold a gun properly.” He calmly says, looking right into the dark void of the corridor in front of himself. The cold metal presses into his head harder. “Perhaps if you spent all that time you’ve spent playing video games on training how to shoot, you would be a little less of an embarrassment to NIS, Yugyeom.”

Brave – his words are reckless and brave, trying to disguise his shaking heart, which is shattering in pieces once again. The sense of being betrayed is filling up his entire body, every cell of his body is burning in pain; it feels like his brain would be short-circuiting from all the questions that are overflowing to the point he can’t even open his mouth to tell them out loud – how, why, what for, since when. How could he. Why _would_ he.

Yugyeom’s voice is full of contempt, when he opens his mouth and Jaebum isn’t sure if the person behind him is really the person he knew for the past three years. “You’re still all the same even with a gun pointed at you. All upright and following the rules, even when you say you don’t give a fuck about them. Aren’t you scared that I could kill you right here, _hyung_?”

“If you really wanted me dead right now, I’d already be lying here with a bullet in my head.” Jaebum breathes out, but even he can hear how traitorously shaky his words are. “And yet we’re having this conversation.”

Jaebum is well aware Yugyeom could actually fire the gun any second now, he _could_ have guts to actually do that – Jaebum should be better at reading people apparently. Or perhaps they would continue this conversation, discussing who’s going to die here for a little bit longer, but something unexpected happens, both for Jaebum and Yugyeom himself, it seems.

Another gun goes off somewhere in the building; judging from the muffled sound of it, somewhere quite far away from them. Jaebum flinches and Yugyeom frantically looks around, this time throwing his left hand around Jaebum’s neck, just in case the latter comes up with something funny.

But eventually, Yugyeom makes a connection between the sounds. Jaebum has no clue what he’s talking about, when his grip around his neck tightens and Yugyeom mumbles, “I told him to wait. Move.” He adds, a little louder this time, addressed directly to Jaebum. “I don’t have the entire day here. IT department has a meeting in the headquarters later.” He giggles right into Jaebum’s ear, nudging him to walk.

And so Jaebum complies – he doesn’t know where they’re walking, he doesn’t even bother to ask; even though Yugyeom moves his hands away, there’s still a gun, this time aimed straight at his back – and that’s the best guide as of now.

It looks like Yugyeom is quite familiar with this maze of empty offices and storage rooms, even though Jaebum can clearly remember that the boy wasn’t a part of investigations of warehouses Wang owned. In fact, Yugyeom’s so familiar with it, it doesn’t take long for him to drag Jaebum to the first floor, which the latter was so desperately in search for before Yugyeom appeared. It also doesn’t take long for Yugyeom to move through the empty storage space there and bring them both to almost the opposite side of the building, where there’s only one huge office room.

Jaebum has seen a lot during his years in military, training for NIS and finally being a part of the organization, however, what he sees there, makes him sick to his guts; he’s sick like that for the first time in his life.

The first thing he notices after Yugyeom tells him to go into the office with a weird grin on his face, is the smell of blood. The nauseating smell of damp metal that is suffocating him from the very first second he sets a foot there – it’s probably even worse than the sight Jaebum wishes he could block his eyes from seeing.

The office is more or less empty asides a few tables and stacks of heavy-duty plastic boxes here and there; on one of those boxes sits Choi Youngjae, grinning like a madman after seeing Jaebum finally present in a nightmare that’s about come, waving to him like one would wave to a long lost friend. And then there’s Jackson—

Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say there’s no _Jackson_ anymore, just a body on the floor with a gun wound just a little below his neck, in a puddle of what seems to be his own blood. Jaebum’s body reacts automatically to do what he’s been always trained to do – despite him feeling dizzy and nauseous from the smell of blood, he ignores everything around and recklessly dashes to Jackson, still full of ridiculous hopes the man is still alive, because it’s only been a few minutes after the shooting sounds.

The body is still warm, but Jaebum’s fingers stain red quickly; too quickly to not accept the fact that Jackson is dead – if not from the bullet itself, then from this enormous amount of blood he lost.

Neither Yugyeom nor Youngjae interfere with this, simply staring at the scene as if it’s boring to them. Only after Jaebum’s eyes rise to Youngjae, wordlessly asking for the reason, the latter stands up, and calmly smiles. “He thought it’s smart trying to escape when I wasn’t looking. Big hearts bleed a lot, it seems. Not a big loss anyway.”

“Not a big loss?” Jaebum slowly repeats. His voice is cracking, and nothing, absolutely nothing is making sense here. “So _that_ was your intention all this time, Choi? To overthrow Jackson?”

It’s Yugyeom who starts laughing first, laughter cold and sending shivers down Jaebum’s spine. “Do you seriously _still_ think Wang was the most important here? It’s hilarious, and honestly really sad, how the best NIS agent is this dumb. I think the fuck not,” his gun is quickly pointed back at Jaebum, when Yugyeom notices the latter side-eyeing a gun carelessly thrown next to the dead body. “No tricks here, Jaebum, just us, boys. Don’t you want to hear the full story?”

“The more you hear, the longer you’ll stay alive.” Youngjae agrees. “Would be a pity to die during the best part of the story, wouldn’t it? The able over there,” He points at one of them in the back of the room, the farthest from the entrance. “You’re going to stand up now, slowly walk there and sit down. One suspicious move and you’re going to follow Wang. Do you understand?”

Jaebum takes a deep breath. He knows why they want him to hear the entire story – nobody is ever telling anything like that to a person who walks out of a mess like this alive. Words hurt, and the two guys, now watching how Jaebum slowly stands up, are undoubtedly ready to hurt him till the very last second. Jaebum doesn’t think it’s a big price to pay though, his own life for being able to understand what has happened and why – having lost a close friend and being betrayed by another, getting answers just before his death seems so much better than not knowing anything at all.

However, after standing up, Jaebum doesn’t move. It’s always been in his blood to rebel, even in the most dangerous situations – and that, perhaps, is one of the biggest mistakes he always kept repeating throughout his entire life. “You can’t force me. We all know what the endgame is going to be, so why should I listen to you?”

Youngjae almost lovingly coos, “We know you know _your_ endgame… But does Mark know his?”

“Don’t you fucking dare to touch him.” Jaebum spits out almost automatically, but his words are met only with satisfied laughter.

“Cute.” Yugyeom says, shaking his head as if he would be talking with a dumb toddler. “Come to think about it, even _romantic_. Isn’t it what happens in stupid love stories? When you realize that you love someone just before dying and it’s too late? Now be a good boy and move.”

The said table has three chairs neatly lined next to it, as if it was already set up for this strange and bizarre play directed by Youngjae and Yugyeom. Youngjae sits down right in front of Jaebum, putting a gun he swiftly grabbed from the floor before himself as a warning to not do anything funny.

Jaebum thinks how oddly funny it is, Youngjae not reminding that energetic bubbly person he first saw during his first meeting with Jackson. Sure, Jaebum had learned that Youngjae can be cold and bitter, but now that all the masks are off and his true face is showing, Choi Youngjae is even colder and mocking.

“I thought you love Wang.” Jaebum notes, trying to disguise his shaky breath and the fact that if not for the chair he’s sitting onto, his knees would’ve gone weak a long time ago. “Or is it not an obstacle when you want money?”

Youngjae starts laughing again – it’s a cold sound, loud and scary, a tool to mock him even more. “ _Love_ him? Why the fuck would I even look at him twice, if there was nothing useful to me coming from it? Oh, our dear Jaebum, have you ever gotten your head our of your sorry ass to look around?” Youngjae’s smile is soon gone, as he says, “It was always the other way around. Wang has always loved people who showed him at least a little bit of attention, and there was I, a harmless fifteen year old who became his best friend and later the right hand in the business. I hated his guts from the first day I met him – he was like all the other assholes in sports – looking down on poor people and treating them like servants. But I liked the money, and I like to collect connections, it turns out being pretty useful. Don’t you think?” He turns to Yugyeom, who during this entire conversation keeps staring at Jaebum. “It was nice to see it all fall into its places when we needed it the most.”

“But when we met at the café when Jackson was late… You seemed so bitter talking about Jackson sleeping with all those people—”

“It’s called acting, Im.” Youngjae rolls his eyes. “You should’ve learned it before even doing this. Jackson was always wrapped around my finger so tight, he only realized what was going on a few days before you both landed in Bangkok. A truly brave man, to think about it, even tried to save you – but we’ll get there.”

_Jackson tried to save him in Thailand? From what? Why?_

Nothing makes sense in Jaebum’s head anymore – it didn’t before, but now it doesn’t even more; it’s like someone would be keeping his thoughts apart from each other by force, not letting him put more than two puzzles pieces together to see the entire picture.

“Have you ever wondered how NIS receives their cases?” Yugyeom asks with a smirk, while Jaebum is trying to figure out how it is related to everything else. “Have you ever thought what departments it goes through first? Who reviews it before it’s delivered to agents? Who has the access to it as soon as it’s dropped into the system?”

Jaebum knows. He never really thought about it much, but he’s aware that it goes through the IT department first. It’s only logical given that the entire department is responsible for all the digital files, depending on the subdivisions. One subdivision is responsible for data entry and updating case files from agents’ reports, Yugyeom’s subdivision is the one working with agents’ profiles. But that doesn’t answer—

“I can see your brain going into the right direction.” Yugyeom kindly smiles, as if they’d be in a kindergarten and he’d be praising Jaebum for neatly writing his first syllables. “The IT department. We do work in subdivisions, but we all can access shared databases anyway, and it’s not that hard to get login info for all the other ones – they’re a little dumb on this one, don’t you think? Naively hoping that everyone in NIS isn’t going to see a loophole here if they have… ideas. Five seconds.” He raises his right palm to illustrate his words. “That’s all it takes to log into the subdivision who uploads new cases to send to agents. Even if those cases are fake – nobody will search the origins of it, as long as it’s uploaded by the right source.”

“Fake?” Jaebum helplessly repeats. That part of Yugyeom’s speech has the most implications behind it; and none of those implications are what Jaebum wants, or is ready, to hear.

Yugyeom’s answer is sharp, cutting straight through Jaebum and shattering him in pieces once again. “This entire mission was fake. Wang was never suspected of human trafficking, nor drugs. There was no drug business of his to begin with. His profile was mostly fake.”

Jaebum’s breathless. It burns; the realization that all this suffer, him breaking himself into pieces every time he needed to kiss or sleep with Jackson, him going to Thailand and reliving everything he tried to bury in his mind was pointless, just an act – it burns Jaebum’s insides so much, it doesn’t take long to feel a familiar sting somewhere in his eyes.

_He can’t cry, not now._

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Jaebum says after a pause. “CIA dispatched their agents and they don’t have access to our databases, so they wouldn’t even know about any kind of case, no matter fake or not. They can’t decide to just go on a mission in a foreign country without even having a mission there.”

“They can’t.” Yugyeom agrees. “But it was just so much more convincing. I threw some clues here and there about Jackson’s past in Los Angeles Youngjae so eagerly shared, some fake reports about human trafficking crossing borders of the States – boom, CIA is interested in this strange sportsman residing in Korea. They demanded cooperation from NIS, and they gladly accepted it, like the cowards they are – they didn’t even check the case, they trusted the CIA. My plan was working, and I quickly worked on spreading the word, so you’d catch the bait of a new project. It’s ridiculous how far information can go in NIS once you ask everyone not to spread it.”

Jaebum remembers that time – he was dying in Jinyoung’s office working on various documents and police reports about minor vandalism he’s been put on after suspension. The news he heard about an upcoming new S rank mission worked like medicine for him – hearing his colleagues gushing about it during lunch breaks lured him in; deprived of real work and opportunities to occupy his mind from the darkest thoughts, Jaebum didn’t hesitate even for a second. One lunch break, he simply went to the only person who could’ve helped him to be put up on the agent roster again…

_Yugyeom._

It all makes sense now, why Yugyeom, even though pretending that he doesn’t like that idea at all – faking medical records and putting them back into the database, automatically making Jaebum eligible to be considered for any upcoming mission – agreed quite quickly. Those three or four days of refusion no matter how Jaebum begged and even threatened him was only a show, so that Jaebum wouldn’t suspect a single thing.

“How do you know Youngjae?” Jaebum asks.

Youngjae answers this one himself, as if he was waiting for his turn to make an appearance in this conversation. “It’s a coincidence really. One day Wang has sent me out of the office with his ridiculous documents and it took longer than I expected, so I called him and said I will be heading home. Instead though, I decided that I’m too lazy to cook for myself, so I went to this Japanese food place, where I met Yugyeom. I thought he’s working in police or something, because he had a gun with himself, but he was shitface drunk. Does last year, April 19th say something to you, Jaebum?”

It does.

It was Bambam’s first death anniversary and both Jinyoung and Yugyeom took a leave of absence that day. Jaebum himself worked overtime – it’s strange, but oddly fascinating how differently people deal with situations like that. It’s also telling, the fact that Yugyeom and Youngjae met last year, it only shows how much time they’ve spent perfecting this plan, even though Jaebum has yet to know why.

“Brokenhearted people are very easy to read.” Youngjae concludes, looking at Yugyeom. His stare isn’t soft or friendly, Jaebum has no doubt that he’d betray _anyone_ if he had to, but it’s the closest to what he can call a pitying stare. “I talked to him, brought him home before he shot someone with that gun. He told me he used to go to that restaurant with his friend who’s died a year ago. He even said he loved him.”

“You… loved Bambam?” Jaebum says. He never saw that coming – sure, Yugyeom and Bambam were always close, clicking perhaps from the very first time the Thai kid came over to sign the transfer documents, but then again… Jaebum has always been ears deep into work and, later, grief, he wouldn’t have told romance and friendship apart.

“Does it matter now?” Yugyeom mumbles, avoiding his stare. “He’s dead. And he’s dead because of you and Jinyoung.”

It finally dawns on Jaebum, the reason why he’s here, the reason why Yugyeom has gone so far even to the point of fucking with CIA just to get what he wants. Jinyoung has once drunk said that there’s no other dangerous man than a man in love – probably a line he’s read in one of the books he’s constantly carrying with himself even in the office; but it finally makes sense.

Yugyeom thinks that he’s guilty for Bambam’s death – and it’s not like Jaebum hasn’t blamed himself for it either. That’s why his words aren’t defending him, only Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung has nothing—”

“Has nothing to do with it, right.” Yugyeom snorts. “If he would’ve stuck with the original plan, if _you_ wouldn’t have signed those fucking papers, Bambam would be here. I don’t care if you or Jinyoung wouldn’t, but Bambam _would_ be here, but you can’t even stick to the mission plan and you tell _me_ to stop being a disappointment to NIS?” his speech becomes more heated and faster than usual, something Jaebum hasn’t heard in a long while.

“Bambam asked to be put on a mission himself—”

“And you shouldn’t have let him! You should’ve died yourself if that’s what the endgame was supposed to be, but you shouldn’t have let him die!” Yugyeom jumps from his seat like a cornered animal, eyes looking at Jaebum, but not really seeing him due to the rage. It takes Youngjae firmly telling him to sit the fuck down, because they’re not done yet, for him to get back to his senses. Yugyeom’s breathless when he starts talking again, “Do you know, do you have any idea what it means to wake up in a hospital after getting shot _three fucking times_ , that a person you love is dead?”

Ironically, Jaebum does – perhaps not in the same way as Yugyeom, because he’s never felt anything romantic to the Thai kid, but it felt the same as having a family member passing away. “You know I do. I was there, he died in front of my own eyes. All because of Jackson’s people. How do you think _I_ felt all this time?” Jaebum hisses.

“Don’t talk like Jackson’s people being responsible for Shilla is some sort of a surprise for me.” Yugyeom says, conveniently ignoring the part about Jaebum’s own feelings. “I know who’s responsible for that explosion. That’s why bumping into Youngjae in that restaurant was the best gift I could’ve ever gotten – and that’s why Jackson was so ideal to use for our plan. Punishing both of the culprits seems about fair.”

“There were no drugs of his, sure,” Youngjae says, seeing the confusion in Jaebum’s stare. “But Jackson isn’t a saint. Do you really think he would’ve survived in the showbiz if he wasn’t supporting all the underground stuff? He might not have touched any of that shit, but he still allowed me to sell it, using his connections. But he never ran anything himself. It was all me. Drug deals idiotically openly done in his house? Me. Bribing fencing officials? Me. All me.”

“Anyway, back to the topic.” Yugyeom says, and Jaebum now knows why he is even telling him this, why he’s even bothering. Rubbing it in his face about how one of his best friends betrayed him is just another, additional form of revenge. And it’s working, it’s working way too well, judging by the sharp pain he’s feeling in his heart, like he’s about to have a heart attack. “CIA dispatched their agents, they were on their way, you basically came flying into your own trap – all was well. Until Tuan turned out to be one of the agents too.”

Youngjae has told about Mark to Yugyeom – he told the story about Jackson witnessing a death of a person during his stay in Los Angeles when they were planning this entire scheme out; contrary to Jackson back then, Yugyeom and Youngjae knew that he’s now a CIA agent, therefore possessing dangerous information – if the word got out, Jackson would’ve been gone to police and not NIS, hindering their own plans.

“That’s why we did everything to make sure you hate each other, so you wouldn’t talk about shit together.” Yugyeom says. “Good thing you were already pissed off about the gun battle during the first day, so it was a piece of cake. I told him about Bambam when you were lying on the training room floor unconscious after Peters almost broke your nose, knowing very well he will ask you about that. I asked Youngjae to send Wang’s people to warn him about keeping his mouth shut. In the end, I clearly failed because it seems like two dumbasses attract each other, but it wasn’t a big loss – he told you shit only in Thailand, when it was too late.”

Jaebum has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that the past months were all fake – the mission, the case, even his relationships with people were predetermined beforehand. That even him hating Mark at first was staged, and if there was one thing Jaebum hates them most in life is being taken away the right to decide for himself.

“It worked perfectly, you know? Youngjae hated Jackson so much, he basically tossed him into my hands, the fake case was taken so well _nobody_ suspected anything.” Yugyeom smiles. “Didn’t you ever find it strange how I was _everywhere_ in the mission, despite being an office worker?”

Jaebum has never thought about it, but now that he knows the backstory, it’s so ridiculously clear, it makes him want to laugh. It was Yugyeom who gave him the fake passport and fake company documents; Yugyeom was his “personal assistant”; Yugyeom was the one to constantly send him his schedules after he was sent to meet Wang. Yugyeom was even the one who was responsible for the negotiations when Youngjae was arrested, and the one who first called him when he and Mark got trapped in Thailand.

“Mark thought that Jinyoung was the one we shouldn’t trust…” Jaebum mumbles, more to himself, but the guys in front of him gladly pick that up.

“Jinyoung.” Yugyeom smiles again, but his smile is bitter. “He’s just so easy to make a bad guy. Snarky, thinking he’s above everyone else, just because he’s in Profiling department hence should know how to read people… Sadly, he’s shit at that. He couldn’t harm a fly, even if he hates to show how fucking soft he is. Did you know where all of his holidays and leaves of absence went?” after Jaebum shakes his head, Yugyeom says, “He always went to Thailand, even if it was only for a few hours. He’s always ready to spend shitloads of money only so he could spend a few minutes next to Bambam. That’s why he’s a little better than you will ever be, Im. He at least had the guts to visit his grave not only when the circumstances were forcing him.”

Jaebum lets out a sigh lowering his head. Yugyeom’s actually right – he knows nothing about what was happening around him all this time; he knows nothing about how Yugyeom himself and Jinyoung coped with the death of their friend, he had no idea where Jinyoung is constantly disappearing, even going to the point of openly accusing him of using Bambam’s death to get a promotion. That’s why he does deserve to be here, he does deserve all this being done to him.

“Jinyoung was actually the only one who almost figured this out.” Youngjae says. “Not without the help of Jackson, of course, but he was the only one suspicious when after secretly reading my phone logs he managed to get his hands on, he found a bunch of calls from Yugyeom.”

“Help of… Jackson?” Jaebum frowns. “So he knew about this?”

Youngjae shrugs. “Yes and no. He did know that you’re a NIS agent, because you’re shit at pretending, besides he knew Mark’s an agent too – that’s one of the reasons he fled from LA so quick – so seeing you two together wasn’t a difficult math. So after he realized that his beloved best friend, whom he loved ever since he was like, nineteen, wasn’t really his friend, he turned to Jinyoung, asking for help. I think it was just before you and Jackson went to Thailand when Jackson first called him and convinced he’s not a local drug lord and that he was taking you to Thailand to save your fucking life. That was why Mark never trusted Jinyoung, because even though he didn’t understand what exactly he heard, he heard Jinyoung talking with Jackson after he returned from the States.”

Jaebum feels himself going numb. All these people whom he was pissed off at, whom he hated and openly despised – they turned out to be the ones that were always trying to save him, even Jackson. All because two people in front of him were trying to play gods, seeking for their own twisted definition of justice.

“Mark heard Jinyoung saying that if Jackson fails in Thailand, he’s going to try taking care of it in Seoul, what he mistook as killing you. You both are so damn dramatic.” Yugyeom shakes his head. “I followed Tuan when he landed back in Seoul after he told me he’s going to pay a visit to Jinyoung to ask about some things, but luckily, Jinyoung didn’t trust Tuan either, so he played this little play for him, which made him believe that Jinyoung is with the bad guys.”

“But why did Jackson take me to Thailand in the first place? He always kept talking about that trip like he was planning something big, but all he did was running away, once… Once you got arrested.” Jaebum says.

“The tax scandal was a part of the plan – much like everything else. Sentence for evading taxes is lighter than a sentence for fucking with national intelligence of two countries and killing more than four people.”

Turns out, they planned the tax scandal if something unexpected happens – and Jackson turning to Jinyoung for help _was_ something unexpected. After learning this, Youngjae with Yugyeom’s help anonymously tipped off the local police with documents about the taxes he’s been faking on purpose for the past year, so getting arrested the next morning wasn’t a big surprise for him. Yugyeom was supposed to get him out after a few days – and that’s what he did; they both would’ve been out of the suspect list if this whole mess ever got out – Youngjae has been detained all this time and Yugyeom was working on his interrogations.

“And the reason Jackson wanted you out of the country so bad… He had a hunch we were planning something huge. He naïvely thought that keeping you in Thailand for as long as possible will help, because he knew we won’t be able to come to Thailand ourselves and Yugyeom has always wanted to end things with his own hands.” Youngjae says. “He begged me to stop what I’m doing, in the end he even decided that leaving you there and coming to Seoul alone will change my mind – it was kind of heartbreaking to see Jackson begging, only for him to be forced to call you here. He’s not a bad person, Wang. Sad that I got fed up with his bullshit over the years.”

One more question pops up in Jaebum’s head, but he feels like he already knows the answer. “My medical evaluations…”

“Bought.” Yugyeom immediately responds. “I bribed doctor Woo into letting you pass, because it would’ve been significantly harder to proceed with my plan, if you left NIS. You wouldn’t have passed shit otherwise, Im. You’re just that fucked up.”

“The person who was following me to Ansan just in the beginning of the mission?”

“It was me.” Youngjae responds. Yugyeom couldn’t follow you himself to see where the fuck you’re going so suddenly, so I did it myself. That’s how Jackson knew you were there, I casually mentioned it, so he wouldn’t trust you too much.”

The conversation reaches the end. There are no questions left to be answered, and even if there is, the answer to them is more or less clear. Jaebum is fully aware that the fateful moment is about the reach him – and only then he feels a tinge of fear.

He hasn’t done so many things yet – hasn’t apologized to Jinyoung yet, hasn’t told Mark about what he feels yet… Hasn’t even visited his parents, he hasn’t done it in so long, sometimes their faces in his memory appear all blurry and smudged, like he would be having trouble remembering it. And that’s what scares him the most.

“Anything else you’d want to know while we’re still at it?” Yugyeom mockingly asks.

And even then Jaebum is more concerned with others than with himself. “What will happen to Jinyoung and Mark?”

Yugyeom looks at the clock on his left wrist and tells, “He now should be going to an emergency mission in the outskirts. You’re last seen there and there’s an anonymous call about suspicious people with guns hanging around.”

“There are no people with guns.” Jaebum slowly says and Youngjae nods.

“Only explosives.”

“Kind of repetitive, don’t you think?” Jaebum spits out, but the pain in his chest spreads only further. ‘We’ve been through explosives before.”

Yugyeom looks like he’d gladly punch him in the face, but refrains. “And Tuan will bravely die fighting people Wang sent after him. It isn’t hard to believe after the last time Youngjae and I sent Wang’s people to deal with him. Wang himself will be reported as missing, Youngjae will mourn for a few months before taking over his business, and I will drop out from my NIS duties to live somewhere else. It’s all been planned such a long time ago, don’t even beat yourself over the fact you can’t do anything about it – nobody could, at this point.”

“But you, Im.” Youngjae suddenly says. “Why aren’t you interested in what’s going to happen to _you_?”

Yugyeom answers instead of him. “He’s always been like that, thinking about others before himself. But that one time when it mattered the most, when Bambam’s life was at stake, he did the dumbest thing by letting a rookie agent go on a mission when he wasn’t supposed to. A supposedly small protocol mistake, but that mistake now will cost his own life.”

“What time is it?” Jaebum asks with his jaw clenched.

Yugyeom only smiles. “Backup won’t arrive. Don’t you know why?”

Only then Jaebum finally realizes, it finally dawns on him, what kind of mistake that is and how he just made everything even easier for Youngjae and Yugyeom. Mark only had the first address, the one Jackson gave Jaebum when he called for the first time; the one that came with a text message was known only to Jaebum – he didn’t have the time to forward it to anyone else. There truly will be no backup and no one will ever know what happened here.

“It would make a good headline, don’t you think?” Yugyeom turns to Youngjae. “A NIS agent goes nuts after his colleague’s death and gets killed while trying to attack his friend and co-worker in a fit of hysterics. Sucks that due to NIS’s privacy policy it probably won’t be even mentioned anywhere.”

“Drawbacks of working in a shit place like that, man.” Youngjae casually says, standing up. “So now that he knows the entire story, I assume, we’re going to proceed?”

Jaebum’s breath hitches, even though he’s not sure what exactly Youngjae means, however, in the broad sense it can mean only one thing – soon he won’t be here anymore. He sees how Yugyeom nods his head and reaches for the gun; and then everything goes just a little too fast, almost too fast for everyone to understand.

As soon as Yugyeom raises his gun, while Youngjae wordlessly watches the scene, trying not involve himself where it’s not needed, Jaebum’s survival instincts kick in – he jumps from his seat, making it hard for Yugyeom to aim; almost at the same time, someone kicks out the door from the office room they’re all in and all Jaebum can grasp at the moment is NIS agents yelling Yugyeom and Youngjae to drop their guns, while he himself is desperately trying to run forward, because he sees Mark in the front line with nothing but a gun—

But everything is going just _too fast_.

Guns go off and Jaebum smiles feeling pain and fire spreading in his right leg first, then his shoulder, before the third bullet finally reaches his back. It suddenly becomes hard to breathe, the fire is burning his lungs, forcing Jaebum to stop. He sees two things: everything slowly coloring dark red, and Mark’s terrified face a few meters away from him.

Jaebum falls down, more guns go off, but he’s smiling. He remembers the day Bambam died, he sees it clearly in front of himself – how everything went red in front of his eyes back then, how everything went black afterwards, swallowing him entirely.

It reminds him of that day, because it goes along in the same manner, if not for one detail - everything goes red and black all the same.

However, this time it also goes absolutely silent for Jaebum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. now that's a whole mess.  
> story time: actually that line about everything going silent for jaebum this time was... the whole reason why i started this fic back in march. i just wanted to write that line so bad i basically made a fic for it kdjfhasdjk so yes, i'm lame but. the Big Things are finally revealed! i can finally breathe calmer, knowing i won't accidentally spoil shit while writing, because there's nothing to spoil anymore - asides the backstory of NIS knowing where the fuck jaebum was. but now the most important thing is what happens to youngjae and yugyeom and will jaebum actually get out of this alive; bc jackson clearly didn't, even tho bless his brave soul for trying to save jaebum.
> 
> we also have an additional chapter, because i just can't shut up in this fic! idk if that's a good thing in this case but... yeah. bear with me - knowing my initial every 2 weeks update schedule, i'd say bear with me for a month more, but we clearly see that my life's a mess, so... yeah. i'm trying though! i really am. 
> 
> anyhow, i hope you liked this chapter, because my fingers are legit bleeding from typing and my arm is disowning my wrist, and comments and yelling are always welcomed - if not here, then you can hmu @offshoretuan (yes, i changed my username) on twitter, or on curiouscat with the same offshoretuan username.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of blood (it's not a chapter of mine, if there's no blood tw), mentions of a character death... i think that's pretty much it  
> angst is incoming, so brace yourselves for a hard landing, folks

_Like a feather, endlessly but softly rocked by gusts of warm wind._

_Like a drop of water, lazily swinging on a thread of a spiderweb._

_Like a colorful ladybug on one’s finger; restless but light nevertheless._

_Weightless._

_Jaebum feels weightless when he opens his eyes only to be blinded by bright whiteness that hurts his eyes._

_He doesn’t remember how much time has passed since he closed his eyes for the very last time; he doesn’t know where he is or where he’s_ supposed _to be. He only sees the color white everywhere – ceiling, walls, floor; it doesn’t bring any answers – but Jaebum doesn’t even have questions._

_He’s wearing the same clothes he’s been wearing before leaving to meet Jackson, same sweater and jeans because autumns in Seoul can be unforgiving. Nothing’s wrong, so Jaebum lies there without moving._

_It doesn’t hurt anywhere anymore – Jaebum lazily moves his right leg, trying to see at least the wound, or perhaps even the bullet that pierced through his body, but nothing’s there. His leg is okay, his shoulder doesn’t feel like he just had two bullets stuffed into it, his heart… his heart doesn’t hurt either._

_Is that the end? Is that the mysterious tunnel people always talk about, the one with a bright light at the end of it? Jaebum doesn’t know – he doesn’t even really care. Here, there are no thoughts, no time, no names and even feelings. He brings his hand to his face – from the first glimpse his fingers don’t look any different than usual, but when he tries to touch, Jaebum feels absolutely nothing. Maybe this strange sensation like the places he touches would leave a trail of warm water. It’s like someone would’ve cut off all of his senses._

_And perhaps that’s for the better._

_Jaebum hears something, though, that one’s for sure – it’s a little muted and unclear, like he’d be wrapped in a plastic bubble and additionally surrounded by these thick white walls, but it’s there. Someone’s talking, someone’s always talking without stopping and at times it reminds of a beehive. It’s like music, the mumbles, a rhythm Jaebum eventually gets used to, and which is slowly lulling him back to rest. He wants that, to rest, and if this sense of being absolutely weightless will allow him to rest, he doesn’t mind._

_Jaebum takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again. He wants to sleep, to take back all the sleepless nights he’s wasted. A few moments after, the beehive he’s already gotten used to changes a little – it gets quieter, and Jaebum can hear one more thing, a thing he didn’t hear before. It’s his heartbeat; it’s loud and rapid at times and barely audible and slow at other times, but it doesn’t want to stop._

_He’s not weightless anymore, Jaebum can feel his arm, the one that didn’t get shot, and it feels like…_

_It feels like someone’s holding it. Jaebum’s eyes crack open, but there’s nothing there, no one next to him to hold it; there’s only blood slowly trickling from his wounds, changing the blinding whiteness and turning everything crimson red._

_Jaebum, looking at it, smiles._

_He’s falling asleep again._

“Everything’s okay?” Jinyoung asks, immediately regretting the question. He’s fully aware how absurd and bizarre it sounds; even the disposable cup of coffee he’s now handing to Mark in attempt to pretend that nothing’s unusual doesn’t change the facts. And the facts are that they’re sitting in the waiting room of a local ER at 11 PM, waiting for a doctor to look at what Jinyoung suspects is a broken arm of Mark’s. Jinyoung himself feels his face getting tight from all the bruises and glass shards, and punches when he tackled Youngjae down on the floor.

Jaebum is in the surgery room for two and a half hours now.

At first, Mark takes a deep breath as if he’s about to actually say something, eyes not really focusing on Jinyoung anymore. However, he only takes the cup from Jinyoung with his uninjured hand, and mumbles a barely audible, “Yeah.” His eyes are constantly fixed on only one place though, the one where Mark suspects there’s a corridor leading to surgery rooms; if he shifts from his seat enough, he can see people passing by in that corridor, hence he’ll know immediately when Jaebum’s surgery is over.

Jinyoung and Mark don’t talk about it; every muscle, every cell of their body is so tense, so shocked by everything that’s happened tonight that even a thought about this not having a happy ending, not ending in the only possible way, the _good_ way, would probably make them snap and explode into pieces.

Much like they both were feeling ever since Mark called Jinyoung earlier that evening, to tell him to stay where he is and not react to any emergencies he might get sent into.

“Thank you.” Jinyoung says, seeing a traumatologist finally making her way to them. When the other agent lifts his eyes at him, a little surprised and confused, Jinyoung only gives him a light, but still thankful smile. “You did a great job today. Jaebum will be proud.”

He leaves for NIS headquarters only after making sure Mark’s in good hands now, being taken to get an X-ray on his arm. Jinyoung doesn’t need much treatment himself, he can wash off the blood and take care of the cuts and bruises later on his own. He can’t wait even for Jaebum’s surgery to be done – the headquarters are a mess, and someone has to take care of it; besides, less time to overthink. Mark, nodding him goodbye, can only think about how Jinyoung used the future tense talking about Jaebum, as if he’s completely sure everything’s going to be alright.

Mark, remembering how helplessly he was clutching Jaebum’s hand before the latter was taken to a hospital, wishes for the same.

It almost doesn’t go alright, however, it almost ends in another tragedy when Jaebum’s heart temporarily stops on that surgery table, because he lost so much blood. But it seems like he has something, or someone, watching him from above – his surgery is done in five hours and Jaebum opens his eyes again three days later. There’s no one around in the ward, and even if there was, he wouldn’t really see anyone anyway – Jaebum’s vision is blurry, the only thing he can fully comprehend is that strange, distant beeping somewhere around him.

Jaebum feels tired – he’s so, so tired that he closes his eyes again.

The second time Jaebum opens his eyes, everything’s much clearer, even though he can’t really tell how much time has passed – it’s still the same hospital room, he can feel the strange sensation of an IV drip being attached to his arm, the one that’s not packed into layers and layers of bandages. The beeping he’s heard before is his own heartbeat, coming from the machines nearby. His right leg is put in a cast and the only thing that Jaebum feels echoing throughout his body is _pain_.

It hurts everywhere, every single inch of his body, no matter when he actually got shot. It’s like someone would be tearing his skin apart with their own hands in such force, Jaebum can only bite his chapped, dry lips and take a deep breath as if he’s trying to bite back a scream. The scream doesn’t come out though, he’s unable to make any coherent noise except for a sigh that turns into a cough, which makes the pain, spreading through Jaebum’s body, even worse.

That’s what alarms Jinyoung, who’s standing near a window a few steps away from Jaebum’s bed, silently talking with someone over the phone – the unexpected coughing. As soon as he turns around to see that Jaebum is finally awake, he quickly mumbles something into his phone and ends the call.

“Hi.” Jaebum almost whispers, because even his throat hurts like he would’ve been trying to swallow glass shards for the past few days. “What did I miss?”

Jaebum’s unsure, maybe it’s the lights playing tricks on his eyes, which are still sensitive to light, or perhaps there really are _tears_ briefly welling up in his friend’s eyes; tears of relief that Jaebum’s finally here, back with them.

“Nothing much.” Jinyoung finally says, smiling a little, but his voice doesn’t give out if he really was tearing up or not. His smile is a little tired and sad, like of person who hasn’t smiled in quite a while, a smile that’s more for calming down Jaebum, assuring him that everything’s fine. “Just a few days.” He humorously adds. “It’s fine though, you needed some rest.”

Another question leaves Jaebum’s lips soon after; even through pain it feels so natural, so given, that it only makes Jinyoung smile even more. “Where’s Mark, what happened to him? Why isn’t he here?”

“He’s in the headquarters, I just talked to him. Everything’s fine, we just can’t crowd the hospital. You’re not in the ICU anymore, but the doctors are still closely monitoring your condition after… everything that happened. He usually comes for the evenings.”

“And… What happened—”

“Later. Don’t burden yourself with thoughts about what happened, you need to heal first.” Jinyoung tells, turning his head to the sound of doors opening – it’s a nurse, as if sensing that Jaebum’s awake, or perhaps just here to give the scheduled shot of medicine.

The nurse unceremoniously shoos Jinyoung away, telling that visiting hours are over, and the patient needs rest. She’s not willing to talk much once Jinyoung finally leaves, but Jaebum somehow convinces her to tell exactly what happened with him without waiting for his doctor to do a check up on him. It would take a few hours and Jaebum has never been know for being patient.

Three bullets in total – that’s what surgeons took out of his body; one bullet fractured a bone in his leg, that’s why he’s put in a cast. Two he got into his shoulder almost hit an artery, resulting in an enormous blood loss and a cardiac arrest mid-surgery.

Young people are reckless, the nurse says a little angrily, after telling that Jaebum must’ve born under one really lucky star if he managed to survive all this. The recovery will be hell, she warns, but the worst has already passed.

However, when Jaebum is soon completely alone in the ward again, trying to somehow carefully shift his tired and hurt body, so it wouldn’t hurt as much until the painkillers kick in while he’s waiting for his doctor, he remembers Yugyeom. More specifically, his eyes, full of hatred and contempt as he was pointing a gun at him, and suddenly Jaebum isn’t too sure what feels like hell more – the pain he’s feeling now, or the pain that pierces through his heart remembering the kid who betrayed him.

 

Mark really comes the very same evening, as soon as the official visiting hours start. He’s okay, at least he _looks_ okay asides a few scratches on his face; his arm is only sprained, but not broken, and Mark looks like he ran all the way down here. He probably did, considering he barely could sit calmly the entire day after knowing that Jaebum has woken up.

It’s a little awkward for some reason, even more than usually; Jaebum can feel how his cheeks turn painfully red upon seeing Mark even through the enormous amount of various painkillers he’s been put on. It’s not like they haven’t been awkward around each other before, but this time it’s somehow different, and Jaebum isn’t the only one feeling like this – Mark’s smile, albeit relieved and warm, is unfamiliarly shy and nervous.

“How… How are you feeling?” he asks, after he’s finally not running out of breath, scooting a chair closer to Jaebum’s bed; the same chair he’s spent hours and long nights on, fighting hospital personnel about staying way after visiting hours and causing minor disturbances every time nurses tried to get him out of the building threatening to call the police. Usually, only those treats would help, but not because Mark would be afraid of it – if anything, local police units were warned of what happened if there were reports from people about the shootings in one of the industrial districts, and how it ended – it’s mostly because he didn’t want this fuss to eventually reach Jaebum.

“Decently.” Jaebum tries to shrug nonchalantly, like it would be nothing, however, he kind of forgets that it’s not a great idea to pretend he doesn’t have two gunshot wounds in his shoulder. A few moments later he has to bite his lips, so he wouldn’t start cursing because of the pain shooting right into his shoulder, all the way up to his neck. “Doctors said that a few more days and I can finally be detached from all these machines and be transferred into a normal unit, so I guess everything’s fine, given how it could’ve ended.” He’s smiling, but Mark is aware how weak his smile is, and how tired Jaebum looks, so the latter quickly changes the topic before the American can comment on this. “What happened to your arm?”

Mark’s smile falters a little.

He’s unsure how much he should tell right now. They had a few NIS meetings on this – not Jaebum’s case specifically, but no one ever agreed or even gave guidelines how to deal with this topic once it arises. However, Mark decides, their story had way too many lies involved already, too many unspoken things that could’ve cost so many more lives, there’s no use in hiding anything.

Perhaps it’s not the most suitable time, but Mark knows Jaebum will find it out in other ways if he won’t tell it now; so he deems it to be the most alright if Jaebum learns it all from him.

“Sprained it after everything in the warehouse turned into a full-blown fight. It was…” He makes a pause, remembering that evening, remembering how he thought that he won’t be getting out of there alive either. “It was Choi who grabbed me by my arm and tried to pull hostage shit on me, because he didn’t want to surrender. Luckily, he didn’t see Jinyoung behind him, and other agents having a good aim.”

“He got shot?”

Mark nods. He explains that Choi underwent surgery the same evening as Jaebum did, just in another hospital, however, his condition still remains critical. Nobody has much hope he’ll survive another few upcoming days, and even if he does, there won’t be much of him left to press charges against – there’s brain damage.

“What about Yugyeom? What happened to him?”

“He’s arrested. He’s got a few bruises here and there, but nothing severe.”

Jaebum doesn’t say anything. His mind travels far, far away from this ward, far away from this hospital; he remembers Yugyeom, who always laughed so brightly whenever talking with Jaebum, who always looked concerned over his fucked up state, who looked like he genuinely wanted to help by signing him up for that mission… And Jaebum can’t help but wonder, when did he miss it, when was the breaking point, when did friendliness and attachment turn into hate and wish to kill, to seek for revenge. It makes him wonder, whether if it was preventable.

“How did you find me? You had the wrong address.” Jaebum finally says, trying to change the topic at least a little bit.

Mark sighs, but his lip corners still lift up in a desperate attempt to somehow brighten the mood. “You saved yourself, honestly. Thank god you didn’t want to waste time by going home and taking your own car first.” He explains. “You seem to forget often, that all NIS cars have tracking systems, so it’s a piece of cake to call the right person and ask for the location. That’s how I followed you to Ansan that time, too. I just saw that you’re not going anywhere near the address you told me and then warned Jinyoung. He had just gotten a call saying he’s needed in a side mission, allegedly you were there, too – our guys found a flat, all stuffed with explosives later on. I didn’t trust him, because I thought Wang is with the bad guys and Jinyoung’s one of them too, but there was no time to think that evening. Jinyoung told me the key information on what Jackson was really trying to pull on our way to the warehouse, the rest I learned afterwards.”

Jaebum slowly nods. He’s always been forgetting that tracking system – it’s relatively new, and he never paid much attention to it; he had his own means to figure out where people were, and in most of the cases, he was right. Jaebum stays silent for a while before asking the question that’s been burning his lips the most.

“Did you… Did you see who shot me?”

However, Mark, even though he wants to give a proper answer, can’t. “It was impossible to tell, everyone was shooting left and right… I could’ve been any of them. Even both.”

Jaebum doesn’t ask anything anymore, but Mark can recognize familiar shadows clouding his eyes, the same numb doubt etching in Jaebum’s pale face. And Mark feels so, so sorry about this, despite being dragged through all this mess himself, he’s aware that Jaebum had it hundreds, thousands of times worse. He can’t tell it out loud though, he simply can’t find the right words – but that’s never been an obstacle for them. Mark takes Jaebum’s hand in his; carefully, trying not to cause any more pain than Jaebum’s feeling now.

It doesn’t solve anything, Mark’s touches don’t heal broken bones and crushed hearts, unfortunately – but Jaebum feels warm. That’s all that matters.

 

Jaebum gets discharged two more weeks later with a pair of crutches, a whole bag of pain medicine and with a doctor’s warning that he has to show up at least once every two weeks to see if his wounds and fractures are healing well, if he doesn’t be want to put back in a hospital by force again. Mark’s with him, of course, carrying a few bags of those small nothings Jaebum managed to collect during his hospital stay – some clothes Mark brought him himself, because Jaebum trusted him with a key from his apartment, a few books Jaebum read during those times when Mark wasn’t there to visit him or wanted a simple distraction.

Needless to say, those times were so rare, most of those books are left unread, and his mind has decided that he can always rethink and deal with other shit sometime later.

It’s normal to postpone thinking about things, his doctor said – Jaebum asked for a professional help a week into being there, finally deciding it’s time to get his shit together before someone else got hurt again – just that he needs to make sure he isn’t bottling it up for just about forever. And now, sitting in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car while the older guy is taking him home and trying to not show he’s aware of Mark carefully looking at him from time to time, Jaebum for the first time thinks, that maybe everything’s going to be fine.

“I don’t remember this place being so clean.” Jaebum notes after wobbling into his apartment after what seems like an eternity. It’s not his memory playing tricks on him, he definitely remembers there being a pile of laundry he needed to do and dirty plates in the living room; now everything’s spotless.

“I… I got bored yesterday, so… I cleaned it for you. Consider it as a gift for coming home, or a first aid, because this flat was a health hazard with all that mess.” Mark sheepishly laughs, and his cheeks get a little red. Jaebum only sighs, sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen, because walking around with crutches feels like physical training in NIS all over again, and telling Mark he didn’t have to. “But I wanted to. By the way, Jinyoung tried his best to stuff your fridge with food, but if there’s anything else you need, let me know, okay?”

“Listen, I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, you don’t need to babysit me.”

“You can’t dress yourself on your own yet, so I’d take that back, if I were you.” Mark’s voice is strict and Jaebum, to his biggest horror, thinks to himself that it’s rather… cute. Thankfully, Mark starts talking again just in time for Jaebum not to make a fool out of himself. “Now get back to bed, you’re tired and I left a few blankets in the living room. I’m going to make lunch and then head off to work. The paperwork is insane these days… You know how it is.”

Jaebum knows; he remembers the amount of paperwork after Bambam died.

He appreciate that Mark is trying to act normal around him – he doesn’t pretend that nothing happened, that they work in a completely normal workplace, not CIA and NIS. He didn’t hide the articles about Jackson’s funeral from Jaebum, he didn’t hide the fact that Youngjae didn’t survive either.

In way, it brings  sense of normalcy in Jaebum’s otherwise messy life, full of ups and downs, it gives some sort of basic grounds from which Jaebum can start sorting out his mind. He’ll have plenty of time for that, he’ll be on a sick leave for a very long time – his doctor said not to expect anything less than half a year, because his traumas, both physical and mental, aren’t a children’s play anymore.

However, even knowing all this, Jaebum’s blood still freezes a little seeing a pile of letters, neatly placed on the table in the kitchen, as Mark took care even of his mail – there’s an official looking notice, a notice Jaebum recognizes, but doesn’t really want to read.

Witness summons.

“Isn’t it too soon.” He silently mumbles. “It’s been barely a month.”

Mark, raiding Jaebum’s fridge for a few eggs, closes the fridge doors and leans against them, looking apologetic. “NIS is trying to end everything as soon and as quietly as possible. There’s nothing to investigate, Yugyeom’s fully admitting everything.” He says. “The only question is what sentence prosecution will ask for, but Jinyoung, you, me and some other agents got their summons yesterday, the first hearing is scheduled next week. It’s going to be tough, I know, and I’m sorry for that.”

Mark does something a little unexpected – he comes closer and gives Jaebum a careful back hug. Jaebum only sighs, but his fingers tightly grasps Mark’s, even though he can’t really tell his feelings apart.

They know it’s going to be though, but it’s tougher than Jaebum has imagined, coming to the hearing the next week. It feels like his heart is constantly put on a rollercoaster, and his knees are shaking so, so bad, when police brings Yugyeom in. His heart sinks for the first time when it’s Mark’s teammate’s, the only one’s alive aside Mark, turn to witness; his and Yugyeom’s eyes meet for a second.

Jaebum can’t really figure out the stare; it doesn’t have the hate, which was there that evening in the warehouse, it doesn’t have the contempt. There’s no fear either, no worries about the bleak future prosecution is drawing for him. It’s just that, an empty stare, a stare of a man who’s lost everything at such a young age – Jaebum recognizes that stare, because it’s his stare, too.

The heaviness doesn’t leave his heart anymore when after the third hearing two months later, the prosecution finally reveals the punishment they’re going for. Adding all the charges up – multiple organized homicides, attempt at homicide and counterfeiting official documents – it turns out to be a little more than thirteen years of prison. The only thing that’s helping Yugyeom right now is that Jackson was killed by Youngjae, and that he’s admitting to all the charges.

It takes a toll on Jaebum, seeing all this, it would be strange if it didn’t – he’s slowly turning back into his old self, despite long weeks of therapy and medication; mood swings are sometimes getting back too, along with the insane feeling of guilt. His relationship with Mark gradually keeps getting worse too – what started off as a sickening domesticity, with them being all over each other in not the subtlest ways after Jaebum’s discharge, with Mark basically moving in with Jaebum under the excuse that Jaebum is still sick and injured, now is getting strange too.

They try to hold onto each other, they really do, and sometimes there are bright days, where they laugh, and tell each other cheesy things, and blush after telling them without any concrete confessions. During one of those days, when they’re on Jaebum’s living room sofa watching some kind of animated movie, Jaebum finally musters up the courage to say, “We need to talk.”

“About what?” Mark hums, munching on a sandwich Jaebum just made now that he’s officially allowed to start moving his both hands, because his wounds are healing pretty well.

“Before going to that warehouse…” Jaebum makes a slight pause before bringing that evening up. “Remember when I said we need to talk about something? I think now it’s a great time to do that.”

Mark finally stops the movie and turns to him with his eyebrows questioningly, but amusedly raised, and Jaebum takes a deep breath. For some odd reason, it feels like running around with a gun, or doing physical training, or even attending those stupid physical activities in the hospital to train his healing leg, would be easier than to talk right now.

But he dives head first into it, anyway.

“I think…” He stutters, feeling how his cheeks are flaming up red again, “I… Like you.”

“Don’t.”

It’s not what Jaebum has been expecting. It’s not like he expected Mark just falling into his arms – despite the fact that he kind of _is_ in his hands, because that’s just more convenient while watching a movie – or confessing his feelings right off the bat too, no; but he didn’t expect this blatant, cold rejection either.

“It just wouldn’t work out, you know?” Mark says to him, sitting on a sofa with a laptop in his lap, a ridiculous cartoon paused on screen. “I'm a planner, I sit in the headquarters and plan shit, I don't need to be afraid for myself. And people like you...”

“And people like me get shot all the time, I get it.” Jaebum bitterly laughs. This truly isn’t going how he planned, at all. “Nobody wants to get stuck with a person who never knows if he’s going to come back to the office alive.”

“It’s not what I—”

“It’s not about work at all, actually.” Jaebum says. “It doesn’t matter who’s a planner or whatever, I don’t even plan to stay in NIS anymore.”

Mark frowns. He knows this conversation has been pending, because there are a lot of things he hasn’t told to Jaebum either; but Mark can get a little scared sometimes, so he gladly turns the topic away from it. “What, why?”

“Do I really need for more reasons to quit that place?” Jaebum says. “I don’t want to return there, that’s it. Every corner of that office has too many memories, too many painful ones.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Jaebum shrugs. “I had this idea of asking to be transferred to a police unit, where I’ll have an actual work schedule and deal with minor things instead of this S rank fuckery.”

Mark stays silent for a while, thinking of the words to say, trying to come up with something that would hurt Jaebum less. “It doesn’t matter, Jaebum, it just won’t work out. It’s not a fairytale anymore, where all the bad guys get caught and we live happily ever together while waiting for them to get punished. I’m… I’m leaving soon.”

A heavy pause follows his words. Jaebum doesn’t even have it in himself to ask what the fuck and _why_ the fuck, and even why Mark has never told him this up until this moment. Mark answers everything himself, though.

“I need to get back to CIA headquarters in the States. It’s an order, I can’t decide not to return without repercussions. They already let me stay for longer than they’ve intended. Originally, I was supposed to go home right after the first hearing of Yugyeom’s case. And too many things have happened… I don’t think it’s good idea for us to… to get involved with each other.”

Jaebum only blankly stares at him, feeling how his heart is beating so fast, it seems like it’s about to fall off his chest, or explode at the very least. “I see.” He mumbles, but he can’t even hide his shaking voice.

“I’m sorry, Jaebum, I—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s better for you to leave, though.”

Mark leaves, but Jaebum lied – it does matter. It matters so much, that for probably the first time in his life Jaebum cries not because he’s grieving, feeling guilty or afraid of everything, himself included. He cries himself to sleep that night, because that one time when he admitted to himself it’s okay to fall in love, the man he loves chose to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: so jaebum gets shot 3 times, goes into cardiac arrest later, also one of his best friends almost kills him and he has to witness all the court process and relive the traumas all over again  
> me: ...  
> me: ...  
> me: oh and also mark leaves him 
> 
> that's it, that's basically the summary lmao. anyhow, that part about jaebum feeling like he would've tried to swallow glass is me, honestly the reason why i'm not late with this chapter is bcs i had a terrible case of strep throat, so i have a sick leave from work and uni, i basically couldn't swallow anything for like 4 good days, so all my pain translated into this angst lol.  
> ANYHOW. evertyhing's more or less clear... yugyeom's about to get his sweet jail time (it was actually interesting to read korea's penal code, searching for how much jail time ppl actually get for all this fuckery), youngjae didn't surive, jackson's dead too, bambam's been dead for this entire fic; honestly it's the deadliest fic i've ever written, well at least markbum are alive, but they're.. well. lmao. they were briefly domestic tho!  
> ideally, i'll very much try to wrap it up next saturday, because a fic this long is draining not only me, but probably y'all too... non ideally, idek, but it's gonna come to an end someday next month at latest. it's been a very wild ride with you guys. i hope you guys like this mess of a chapter, comments, screams and everything is /very welcomed, not only here, but also on my twt @offshoretuan 
> 
> see you! hopefully soon!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's no trigger warnings for once, but it's not a fic of mine if i didn't promote syml's songs, because this was written heavily looping [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goWa6EzkCh4) (and also [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juQKUmdcEqg), for the second part of the chapter), so listen to that while reading, it probably will reflect the mood a lot.

There’s a song, Jaebum remembers the lyrics way too well for a piece probably heard somewhere in a convenience store or on the radio. _Some winters can make a world of a difference,_ it says, and after surviving yet another unforgivably cold and harsh winter, Jaebum thinks he can’t argue about it much.

He himself feels like that winter, cold and harsh, biting like a stubborn snowstorm, which doesn’t want to die down. Like a piece of ice being set on fire and not melting, burning everyone with its coldness. Even if it was winter, and there was snow everywhere, Jaebum constantly felt like he’d be thrown into fire, burning alive. It’s pretty much like hell, he thinks now, seeing nervous people around, standing in front of a mass of relatives, friends and significant others. Happy and proud faces in that crowd are blurring into one huge chaos, and the uniform Jaebum is wearing gets too tight around his neck.

He can’t understand why, after all these months, he still can’t calm down and be like everyone else around – chattering, making jokes, waiting for the ceremony to start.

It’s over, everything is over – Yugyeom has been sentenced to ten years in prison, having three years shaven off what prosecution was pressing against him only because his lawyer forced him to apologize to the victims, at least the ones alive. Jaebum knew Yugyeom wasn’t sorry – he simply didn’t _care_ anymore after his final defense speech, when he looked Jaebum dead in the eye and told it was unmistakably him who shot his former friend three times.

It took a few days for Jaebum to start breathing normally again after hearing that, a few days for his tears to finally dry. But when his tears about one of his best friends stopped, they turned into tears about Mark Tuan being a liar.

Mark didn’t have to return to Los Angeles, at least not permanently.

They bumped into each other two more times before Jaebum finally left NIS. One time couldn’t even be called _bumping_ into each other, Jaebum only watched him from afar after leaving his Section chief’s office; it reminded of those spy movies he saw when he was a teen, when he didn’t know reality was a little bit different from movies – Mark Tuan, confidently walking down the corridor in a fitted suit on himself, with hair dyed black now. He was leading a group of people alongside this another man, probably his superior from CIA, judging from foreign features, politely leaning in to listen what Mark is quickly whispering to him.

Jaebum thought he understood what Mark was doing there, after having his own conversation with his higher-ups.

“I think it was expected.” The Section chief had said back then. “And yet, it’s a still a pity to let you go, Im.”

Jaebum was silent. Ironically, after sacrificing all those long years for NIS, he didn’t feel anything but a sense of long awaited freedom finally breathing into his back. “I’m sorry if that disappointed you in any way, but this time I feel like I should do what’s better for me, Chief.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But do you really think police is for you? A man of your skills and experience would get bored after the first week. You’re up for a promotion and a presidential award for national security, Im. Are you really ready to let all that go?”

“You put me to deal with traffic tickets and vandalism for six months before, Chief. I didn’t die.” Jaebum laughed, but his laugh never reached his eyes; he never intended to be persuaded otherwise. 

“Only to keep you here without any more trouble. It was either leaving you under Jinyoung’s supervision or having to let you go completely, because of all the rules you violated. It seems like we’re going to have to let you go anyway, though. I respect your decision, Im, even though it’s sad.” However, those words made Jaebum wonder whether it was really that sad, because a few moments later the Chief said, “We have a person in mind, who would be good enough to take your place, so everything will work out just fine.”

Turned out, Jaebum wasn’t that far off – the second time he bumped into Mark was when he visited the headquarters for the last time, now only as a visitor, because he returned his work ID a few days prior. Jinyoung helped him carry the last small boxes of stuff Jaebum had managed to accumulate in his office, and Mark accidentally got in the elevator with them.

Jaebum tried not to look at him, but his eyes did slide down to Mark’s chest, to a badge he was wearing. It was the same one Jaebum had returned, officially belonging to the head of the Criminal Investigative Division.

“Good afternoon, agent Park.” Mark said, pressing the button of the first floor. After a pause, he added, “Agent Im.”

“Good afternoon.” Jaebum said back, and for a while he even tricked himself that it didn’t hurt at all. Mark’s eyes also wandered down, spotting the visitor badge and his facial expression became unreadable. Those seconds till they finally separated in the lobby were the longest ones in their lives.

That’s the last memory Jaebum has from being a NIS recruit – the moment he stepped out of the building, his work there was done forever.

Like he’s intended, once he’s fully healed and gone through hours and hours of therapy, both physical and mental, he asked to be transferred to a police academy. At first, he even was stubborn enough to ask to be put through all three years of it – in his eyes, it was only fair to become just that, a regular police academy trainee without any special perks as a former intelligence worker. But the administration of the academy was stubborn, and in the end they reached a deal that Jaebum will take classes, but only theory ones – report writing, laws and procedures, all the things he’s skipped during his training as an agent; it’s still not much, possible to finish in one semester, but it still gave Jaebum a sense of being _normal_ , a routine he could follow, even if that routine also brought having to be surrounded by people he didn’t know and was afraid to get to know.

But time flies fast, the winter has passed, and spring came; Jaebum finally visited his parents that spring. It was weird, to see his parents’ surprised faces, because he didn’t warn them beforehand. It was also hard to try and bite back tears welling up in his eyes, because it’d been so long since the last time he’d seen them. He stayed for a week, probably for the first time ever since he became an agent; when he told he’s going to a police academy his dad said he was proud, and his mother only softly smiled.

Jaebum himself felt only emptiness.

Graduation ceremony comes fast for Jaebum, only a semester later in July, that’s where he is now, trying to focus.

He’d be lying if he told he’s comfortable in this brand new uniform – in NIS, a simple pair of jeans and a shirt, or a suit in extreme occasions, are enough; but he doesn’t mind. Jaebum looks around again, seeing all the overly serious faces of his classmates and perhaps future colleagues as they’re going to get police stations assigned today too, and breathes out easier. Everyone’s just an uneasy and for the first time Jaebum can feel like he belongs to a crowd.

However, he knows that a part of his uneasiness is coming not from being uncertain, or not used to where he is now; Jaebum spots his parents, sitting and patiently waiting for the officials to finally put the graduates through the oath, there’s Jinyoung too, taking a free day just after being promoted to one of the Section Chiefs of the Profiling department. Everyone’s smiling, but Jaebum is choked by never ending questions.

_Where’s Mark now? Is he still in NIS, because Jinyoung never answers this one whenever Jaebum tries to turn the topic there; if he is, what is he working on? Is he safe, does he feel happy? Does he ever think about Jaebum? Does he ever regret his words that night, or has he already forgotten everything?_

Time heals a lot of things, Jaebum knows, but it’s not almighty – broken hearts is certainly a thing time has no power on. He knows he should let it go, but he can’t; a part of his heart still can’t stop childishly hoping that Mark is going to barge in any second like in a dramatic movie, to meet him or to congratulate him, at least.

It doesn’t happen. They’re told to prepare to say the oath, and Jaebum knows it won’t happen, ever.

“I swear not to spare myself defending people’s rights and freedoms,” he robotically repeats when it’s his turn. “To defend the society and the country, to fulfill my duties to the fullest, and defend the pride of a police officer.”

There’s another line he should say – it’s optional really, but everyone still does it, it’s what they’re used to, _and may the God help me_ ; Jaebum doesn’t bother, he doesn’t believe in god.

He doesn’t believe in anyone anymore.

 

“It’s going to rain soon.” Jaebum says, driving the car through a still sleeping city. Night shifts on work days are one of his favorites. It’s quiet, not a lot of people outside, so they can just drive around the city and enjoy the night view calmly before they get dragged into a local bar fight or have to chase another drunken idiot speeding through the city.

His new partner, a kid still in police academy doing his first internship, Hyunjin, rolls his eyes. “Is it one of those _my joints hurt, so it’s going to rain_ days you’re infamous for, hyung? I thought those are only the local urban legends, or something only old people say.”

“Are you calling me old?” Jaebum asks, stopping at a red light.

“I’m telling you act like one.” Hyunjin sticks his tongue out when he receives a death glare, but eventually adds, “Hyung.”

It reminds of Jaebum of Bambam’s antics a little, and he takes a deep breath, fingers clutching the wheel a little tighter than it’s needed, expecting for a wave of suffocating memories to flood his head, but they… don’t come.

His heart hurts a little, yes, but it’s nowhere near the emotional storm he used to feel before. It doesn’t make him angry, it doesn’t make him feel guilty anymore. It just a memory for him now, a warm one, because over the time Jaebum finally learned how to treat them as a way to reconnect with people he misses, not a weapon to torture himself.

Jaebum comes back to Bangkok every few months now, sometimes he lets himself cry, but this time, he lets out a smile.

“Get shot like I was, and we’ll see what’s going to happen to your joints afterwards.” That’s all he says before the green light comes up.

“You keep telling that, but you never tell how you got shot.” Hyunjin questions, turning to him. “Everyone’s dying to find out. Some dude in my class even went this far to make up a terrorist story like you were a spy or something. You’re that popular, hyung, you have rumors about yourself.”

 “One day I’ll tell you that story, kid, but not tonight.”

“Here we go again, acting like you’re my grandfather.” Hyunjin mumbles. “We’re only six years apart, you know, and I still could beat your ass. Hyung.”

Jaebum doesn’t say anything to that, because they’re interrupted by a call that they have to move their asses to Apgujeong. It seems like someone was caught with a huge amount of weed and are resisting the police; Jaebum only shrugs, telling Hyunjin to hold on tighter, as he makes a sharp turn and speeds away to see who on earth is creating all this fuss at 4 AM. 

It’s messy when they get there, someone’s yelling and other policemen are trying their best to catch everyone fighting. Jaebum jumps from the car, immediately getting swept by the action. He sees some dude is trying to use the chaos to his advantage and disappear into the darkness of the night, but Jaebum is faster than him – a few more seconds and the runner is slammed into a brick wall of some building.

“Fuck, let me go—I can explain.” Jaebum hears. It’s a little muffled, but the accented Korean sounds familiar, even though he hasn’t heard it in more than a year now. Perhaps the surprise is the reason why he loosens his grip, so the guy turns around and hisses, “How many times I have to— _Jaebum_?”

It’s Mark Tuan.

Barely changed, now that Jaebum can see his face clearly, still with the same doe eyes that are now looking at Jaebum like he saw a ghost. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Jaebum looks at him with the same stare.

“What are you doing here?” They both ask at the same time.

“I’m working.” Mark says first. “We were calmly carrying out a mission here, before someone called the cops and five people jumped on us, literally.”

“I’m working, too.” Jaebum slowly says. “There was a call for backup, it seems you guys were carrying out your mission a little… too loud.”

“Didn’t know you’re working for the police now.”

Jaebum wishes he could say the same about Mark staying in Korea to work for NIS.

They follow the procedures instead of talking more though, Jaebum returns with Mark having handcuffs on his wrists behind his back, even though he still makes sure Mark would end up in his and Hyunjin’s car.

The ride to the police station is quiet, it feels like even the air between Jaebum and Mark is carrying electricity. Hyunjin in the passenger’s seat doesn’t question; he’s a smart kid, so he sees that something is off here.

Three hours later and a visit of a NIS official representative to confirm that three out of six arrested men indeed are working on a special mission later, Mark’s free from his handcuffs, which Jaebum didn’t bother to take off.

“Full name.” Jaebum asks him while typing a report in a work computer, as Mark is sitting down in a chair in front of him.

Mark lifts his eyes a little disbelievingly. “You know my—”

“Full name.”

“Are you really going to act like that with me?”

“Full name or you’re going to be arrested for not complying with orders of a police officer.” Jaebum doesn’t even lift his eyes from the computer, fingers quickly running through the keyboard.

Mark only stares at Jaebum for a few seconds before emotionlessly telling what he’s asked for, while Jaebum feels an inner turmoil sleepily lifting its head in his heart.

All this time, almost every day without a pause, he kept wondering what would happen if thanks to some miracle, Mark Tuan would appear right in front of him. Jaebum thought he’d feel rage, contempt, or relief, happiness of some sorts… but now that Mark is sitting right in front of him, picking on a corner of the desk, Jaebum doesn’t feel anything else, but this strange bittersweetness.

“You all are going to stay here probably till the afternoon.” Jaebum finally says, after printing the report and giving it to Mark to sign it. “So I suggest finding the nearest coffee machine or a corner to sleep. Police isn’t the biggest fan of NIS agents, so they will put you through a lot of unnecessary paperwork to teach you all a lesson about what happens when you don’t inform police station about your plans.”

Mark’s lips corners rise a little. “Just like NIS hates CIA. Why does it always happen though, that we both keep ending up in the opposite sides of the groups that hate each other?”

“I don’t hate you. I’m just doing my job and my job isn’t to hate people.” Jaebum says, trying not to look at him. “Unless they’re making me work overtime, because it’s almost 9 AM and I was supposed to end my night shift two hours ago.”

“Can I grab that cup of coffee with you?” Mark suddenly asks, and his tired eyes are sparkling somehow daringly, as he’s challenging Jaebum to something.

“Technically, I’m still on duty, and we don’t go on coffee breaks with people we handcuffed three hours ago.”

He knows he might regret it, that it might create more mess in his head than there was to begin with, but Jaebum’s curious by nature, even if that curiosity kills the cat sometimes. So there he is a few minutes later, with a cup of coffee scalding his lips, taking a walk with Mark in a park nearby – that’s always been one of the main things Jaebum like about their police station. It all was surrounded by trees, almost like a fortress.

He has to admit though, that if the circumstances were different, at least a little bit, he’d enjoy going for walks, even though the spring is only approaching, and they both are borderline shivering. It’s awkward, with both of the guys having a lot to say to each other, but not knowing where to start from; so they go from the only shared topic they have now – work.

“What was the mission this time?” Jaebum asks, stuffing his free hand into a pocket of his uniform to keep it warm.

“Some politician seems to be behind smuggling guns and drugs from and to Japan, so the Ministry of Defense thinks there’s a threat to the national security. We’re still investigating, but it seems like it’s a false alarm, those kids are just local weed dealers.” Mark says, but suddenly stops. “I shouldn’t really be telling you all this, should I?”

 “You shouldn’t.” Jaebum agrees. “Not a smart move for the head of Criminal Investigative Division. What if I’m with the bad guys and this is just a ploy to get you talking?”

Mark bitterly smiles. “When you never wanted to become that head… isn’t it a default reaction to be not smart?”

“What do you mean?”

“When they offered me to come work for NIS, I didn’t know they were talking about your spot. The meeting was mostly talking about me working in one of the investigation divisions, but no one ever specified which division it’s going to be, let alone telling me I’m going to become the head of it. If I knew I was taking your place—"

Jaebum interrupts him. “You didn’t take my place, it was already empty because I left. The Section chief was about to have to search for a person to replace me after I quit, so I guess they didn’t take long to realize you’re the best fit.” Mark looks like he’s about to laugh at the unexpected compliment, but Jaebum shrugs. “You are. You have the experience in planning missions which I never had, and you had the experience in field missions, even though it was forced. It’s not easy to find people like that.”

Mark looks at him, when Jaebum mentions the field experience being forced. “How are you doing after all that?”

“Great.” Jaebum says. It’s only half a lie this time, and he feels kind of proud of himself. “Working, having a schedule, taking regular breaks. I even have vacation days I actually use, can you imagine? Everything’s okay.”

“You’re a shit liar.”

“Lying has been a part of my job for almost six years, Tuan, give me some credit.”

“Lying for a mission and lying about personal matters are two different things. You’re good at the first one, you suck at the second.”

Jaebum stops in the middle of his step, looking at Mark with a blank stare. “And what do you expect me to tell? That I’m crying myself to sleep every night ever since you left? I’d be lying. That I haven’t moved on? It would still be a lie.”

“I didn’t want to leave.”

Jaebum, not really knowing what to say, takes a sip of his coffee. “Then why did you?”

“I had to.” Mark says, and before Jaebum can open his mouth to call him out for lying, he adds, “Yes, me having to return to LA was bullshit I came up with on the spot. But it was for the better.”

Jaebum snorts. “For the better? How was that _better_?”

“Everyone was traumatized in that mission in one way or another, you even more so. You needed help, I needed help… everything was just too damn much, and you know it.” Mark says. “We were playing with fire, because any of use could’ve exploded at any time and I just… I didn’t want to lose any more people, especially not you. Not like that.”

“So you decided to leave first? What’s that, a plot for a drama?” Jaebum raises his eyebrow. However, a tiny voice in his head, the part responsible for keeping Jaebum in touch with reality, whispers that maybe, only maybe, Mark was indeed doing the right thing. Jaebum was drowning again back then, and he needed a rescue buoy, not another person for him to drag down together with himself. “It doesn’t matter anymore though, we didn’t work out, you left, and we’re all trying to move on.”

“Did you really?” Mark firmly asks.

“Does it matter?” Jaebum mumbles, trying to avoid a direct answer. “We didn’t work out back then, it’s not going to work out now, either. That’s all there is to it, Mark. People try, they fail, and they move on.”

Mark lets out a small smile. “You finally called my name. You always did that only when you were about to let me closer to you.”

“Listen.” Jaebum says, ignoring his words. “I don’t know what exactly you expect from this conversation, but I surely can’t give it to you. You have your life, I have mine and they don’t have to interfere with one another. We met today by a sheer accident.”

“I don’t expect anything from this conversation.” Mark says, but his voice is stubborn and stricter than Jaebum has ever heard from him before. “I just want to know.”

“Know what?”

“If it’s not too late to try again.”

Jaebum’s fingers unconsciously squeeze the paper cup he’s holding, the still hot liquid pours on his hand burning it, but he doesn’t care. He’s angry, he’s getting so, so angry.

“Try again? You want to _try again_? You fucking left me, when I needed you the most, and you decided that you can walk right the fuck back into my life after almost two years, thinking we’re cool? Love isn’t a subscription to a fucking gym or whatever, you can’t just sign it, leave and return whenever you want for the same price you paid before. And you have the _audacity_ to demand answers from me?”

Mark doesn’t interrupt him, he lets Jaebum off as much as he wants to. He probably would even let Jaebum slap him if the latter wanted, because he knows it’s what he deserves. Only when Jaebum finally runs out of metaphors and curse words, he finally opens his mouth. “I stayed away for almost two years because I didn’t want you to get hurt even more. Do you think it would’ve been better for me to show up after a few months after realizing what kind of an asshole I am? What would you have said then?”

“Nothing.” Jaebum says. “I would’ve straight up punched you in the face. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to do the same this time.” He says, and Mark understandingly steps back a little. “I’m glad you realized what kind of shit you were back then, but I…”

He what? Jaebum doesn’t really know. It feels like he’s been put on a rollercoaster, one day hating even the name of Mark, another one thinking that he might as well just fling himself in the arms of the American agent, if they ever met again. And the duality of these feelings was truly too exhausting and suffocating.

“I don’t ask you to make a rash decision right here, right now.” Mark says, looking him right in the eyes. “I just want to know if it’s _possible_ to start everything again. Without trying to destroy each other, without working and horrible missions getting in the way, without…” he lets out a chuckle. “Without you shooting my life-sized standee in the crotch. Are we capable of that?”

Jaebum doesn’t know.

He’s been betrayed too many times, by too many people he’s loved, to the point he simply lost trust in everyone around, Mark included. Jaebum tries to keep all the attachments he feels at bay – but he has to admit that he’s not exactly successful at it.

He’s a human too, he has feelings, and those feelings bring him flashbacks.

Him bantering with Mark in NIS headquarters, more out of competitive spirit than a real urge to bite at each other. The evening when he was disinfecting Mark’s cuts after the latter got attacked. How Mark risked his job and life running after him to Thailand, only to make sure he’s alive and okay. Jaebum remembers that forehead kiss, which is still burning his skin years later. He remembers all the back hugs, all the times they shared Jaebum’s bed after he got out of the hospital.

Jaebum remembers all the times when Mark would come closer in his sleep, gluing himself to Jaebum to the point he would hear his calm heartbeat echoing through the night; and he would think, back then, that maybe… it wouldn’t be bad if those nights lasted forever.

“I… I don’t know.” Jaebum finally mumbles, but he’s lying to himself yet again. He knows where his heart is, he’s simply afraid.

Mark knows it too, so he comes closer and hugs Jaebum.

It feels warm, Mark feels warm when Jaebum buries his face into the crook of the older guy’s neck. It’s a familiar warmth, the one he’s learned to trust over the months they’ve spent together, and the one he’s never forced himself to forget.

“It’s okay.” Mark says right into his ear. “It’s okay not to know, you don’t need to tell anything right now. It’s okay.”

Jaebum believes him.

That’s why he looks at Mark for a while when they break the hug, both blushing a little, and then… presses his lips against Mark’s. it’s a simple kiss, nothing too heated; almost too innocent for the surroundings and circumstances they met each other in.

But maybe that’s them – innocent and pure, despite all the things they have seen and been through.

“I’ll take that as a _I’ll think about it_.” Mark laughs, and Jaebum elbows him – or would elbow, but Mark’s reaction is just as sharp as it should be, so he catches Jaebum’s arm and uses it as an excuse to hold it.

It feels warm.

It feels warm when they return to the police station holding hands; it still feels like that when Jinyoung shows up in the said police station for one more confirmation Mark’s associated with NIS, and only stares at them, shooting shy smiles at each other and giggling.

It’s still warm when Jaebum musters up the courage to ask Mark out on a proper date a few weeks later, and Mark tells he’s buried under paperwork, so he can’t go. It’s just as warm when Jaebum issues himself a visitor badge because no one’s in the lobby and helps Mark with that paperwork instead of a date, because he’s been leading the division for years and knows how to sort shit out.

It’s just as warm when Mark gifts Jaebum a little kitten he’s adopted from a local cat shelter for their first anniversary together, and Jaebum, holding the cat like one would hold a baby, tells him that Mark should just move in with him altogether, because they’re spending more time together than apart, anyway.

They’re really going to be okay, Jaebum thinks, when one morning they both are brushing their teeth while preparing for work. Jaebum has dreamed a nightmare the night before, about Yugyeom chasing Mark with a gun, and he woke up crying so hard, he woke up Mark and they didn’t really go back to sleep anymore, lying in the bed next to each other and holding hands.

Everything’s going to be okay, Jaebum’s sure, when Mark is giving him a ride to work and he looks at the sky, when they’re stuck at one of the intersections.

The sky is blue; it hasn’t been in a while.

And the winter that’s been torturing Jaebum’s soul for long, long years, is finally slowly fading into a warm spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws hands in the air* WE MADE IT TO A HAPPY ENDING OH BOY, and i actually even did what the fic was intended for - jaebum with with a police uniform, everyone wins. 
> 
> oof. it's been a wild half a year, and an ever wilder 75k-ish words; it's the longest fic i've ever written tbh, i managed to graduate from my bachelor's degree, see got7 live, and get employed and even start my master's during this, and boy was it exhausting, but in the end very twistedly rewarding.  
> it feels a little strange to be finally ending this but!!!! you guys were the best, putting up with this fics, commenting and pressing kudos, i literally don't deserve you after all the trigger warnings and deaths :( 
> 
> for the record, i tried to search for the korean police oath, but unsuccessfully in any language lol, and i didn't want to take an american one or anything more known, so it's actually the police oath of my country translated into english. also you'd think a daughter of a policeman would know all about how things go there - but nah, i just went along with the stream of my mind, so if you find anything that's not really happening in real practices - i'm sorry. and typos, i'm sorry i always leave a bunch of typos, that happens when you're your own beta reader haha.
> 
> also some credits - the song quoted in the beginning is bryde's "to be brave", and the last line's of "the sky is blue; it hasn't been in a while" are taken from niall horan's "mirrors".
> 
> that should be it. i hope yall liked this mess, so comments and screams and everything is always welcomed and really means the world to me... ily guys!!!! now it's time for me to pass out in bed, because it's past 1 am


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